


You Must Keep Moving On

by Scriberat



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alibaba and Aladdin mentioned, Alibaba is dead, Gen, Mariam is also still dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 01:31:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19241116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scriberat/pseuds/Scriberat
Summary: Alibaba made a wish and poured all his magoi into it when he was finally speaking to Kassim. Instead of Kassim's body turning to coal, and his spirit going to the Great Flow, Alibaba's went instead. Now, Kassim has to deal with the Kou Empire moving in and the princes being absolutely insane.





	1. His Name Is Kassim

**Author's Note:**

> for the Magi Big Bang~

The capital city of Balbadd was bustling. The people walked around the streets, all dressed in green robes and speaking quietly among themselves. Even the market street was toned down from its usual hustle-and-bustle — from what   
_  
used to be  
_  
its usual hustle-and-bustle. The old awnings over storefronts, tattered and colorful, had been replaced by new red cloths bearing the symbol of the Kou Empire. Guards stood at every street corner, intimidating and unapproachable.

 

_ Not at all like the old guards _ , Kassim thought. He whistled and wandered in his own green robes and two pairs of earrings, doing some shopping for Zaynab. She needed vegetables for a Kou dish she was going to try to make that night, something about stirring. Things had certainly changed since the rebellion just a few short months ago, and it made Kassim feel… almost old. He often heard old men complain about how society had changed since they were children. It was the same feeling now, he imagined. Even so, after turning into that monster and nearly succumbing entirely because of it, Kassim felt reborn. Much of that feeling lingered.

 

“Clear the way! Clear the way! Royal carriage coming through!” shouted a guard. Kassim stepped dutifully to the side, watching as the carriage passed. He wasn’t able to see who was inside.

 

As soon as the carriage passed, Kassim rolled his eyes. The members of the royal family sure liked to flaunt around from time to time, when they bothered to come out of the castle. Nobles in general always sucked. Sucked money, sucked ass, didn’t matter, but they kept leeching off the poor like it was the only thing keeping them alive. Kassim wondered how much of the tax he paid to this government had gone to that carriage, lips tightening.

 

He shook off the feeling that pervaded him and went to the next stall. It was a fruit stall, and unnecessary for dinner that night, but Kassim wanted to treat Zaynab to something. After all, she and Hassan had helped him out after the fallout from the rebellion. He owed them everything.

 

“Two huan,” Kassim murmured to the vendor. Technically speaking, haggling was illegal. Things that cost certain amounts of money were supposed to cost that much because of things like transportation and labor. Pushing the amount paid down was against Empire standards, and because of the rule against haggling, the marketplace had become a quiet place of nearly back-alley deals.

 

“Four huan,” the vendor replied, glancing warily to one side. Kassim looked that way and saw a guard coming down the street as the vendor shared a nod with a man leaning against the wall of the shop.

 

“You know these fruit are past their prime. Two huan.”

 

“Four.” The man against the wall coughed as the guard passed.

 

“These fruit look delicious!” Kassim said, a wide smile on his face. “How do you keep them so ripe?”

 

“It’s a trade secret, but I do have a few tricks. I can tell you about them tonight over drinks, if you want,” the vendor replied, an equally wide smile on his face. He watched the guard pass, and the moment the coast was clear, said, “Three.”

 

“Deal.” Kassim pulled out three paper bills and handed them over. In return, he got a small bushel of apples.

 

“These look delicious! How much for one, my good man?” asked a voice. It came from a short young man, hardly older than Kassim. He was wearing white — the noble color — but the style was almost foreign. His shirt was cut down the sides, but bore the signature Kou ties across the chest with a winged motif at the bottom. Shorts covered his upper thighs, red cloth covered his lower legs, and small black shoes that were so very Kou  _ graced _ his unharmed little feet. A blue and white hat  _ adorned _ his head, covering some of the reddish pink hair that fell in tails over the shoulders and three braids over the fringes.

 

Kassim almost could have been fooled into thinking this guy was just another wimp of the court, if not for the dangerous air around him and the muscles in his arms. He wasn’t apparently armed, but Kassim had no doubt that anyone who tried to mess with him would find that he didn’t have to be.

 

Still, he looked pompous, especially with the stupid serene smile on his face.

 

“Five huan,” the vendor said. The white-clothed man smiled and handed over five huan.

 

“Here we go~ How many apples does that get me?”

 

“A bushel,” the vendor said. He knew something, something that Kassim was missing.

 

“How kind of you, sir. Have a nice day! You, too,” said the man, directing the last at Kassim. For a single instant, the smile that split his face made Kassim’s soul leave his body. Then the look was gone, and the guy was on his way, back into his carriage, where three attendants with pieces of paper hanging off of them waited for him.

 

Kassim blinked in recognition. That was the royal carriage, the one he rolled his eyes at. The noble… no, the  _ prince _ couldn’t have realized that he had done that, could he!? There was no way! If someone couldn’t see in, someone couldn’t see out…

 

Then again, the entire city was redone in a single day. Who knew what these people were capable of?

 

“Looks like that one has it out for you. What’d you do this time, Kassim? Raid his room in the night? It  _ was _ awfully foggy. Hehe.”

 

“Those days are behind me. I’m just eking right now while I plan my next move,” Kassim replied with a sarcastic grin. “I rolled my eyes and he showed up.”

 

“Right, right. Don’t get on the bad side of the princes, Kassim. We like you down here. You know us, you understand us. But those three… no, those four, gotta count the princess… aren’t even like their own court. I should know. Sometimes people come down to buy from me. They talk. Those royal kids all have the dungeon treasures, you know? They could wallop you before you even look at them.”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kassim said, then waved. “See you around, old man!”

 

“Stay out of trouble!”

 

Kassim took the bushel of apples and left, swinging the basket idly next to the basket of vegetables he had purchased earlier. He shrugged off the look that the prince had given him. So what if he had a djinn? So what if he had a metal vessel? Kassim had one too, technically. He could take them.

 

The streets were still filled with people, but there were fewer children running about. It made Kassim a little sad, but those kids were learning things he could have only dreamed of as a child himself: reading and writing beyond the basics needed for trade, mathematics that could help them establish themselves as better than just peasants. Kassim wished them well in their education. He just hoped that they didn’t learn too much about how to be Kou and kept some of Balbadd inside them.

 

Walking along and thinking about the kids led Kassim to his own childhood. He could practically see the places where he and Alibaba had played, made livings for themselves with shining shoes and escorting tourists, torn each other to pieces. All those fights seemed so meaningless now. Part of Kassim wished he had talked more to Alibaba about how he was feeling back then.

 

He passed where the mountain of dirt and trash had been, where Alibaba had first perfected his tunneling technique. The mountain was long gone, the street was totally different, but it had only been three months. Kassim’s body hadn’t forgotten yet. Nor did it forget another place, as it moved of its own accord, and Kassim found himself face to face with a canal of water that had been left nearly alone by the renovation teams. The bottom was covered in silt, burying the treasures and pieces of trash dropped in the river.

 

Somewhere in there was the knife he had plunged into his father’s stomach.

 

_ Is it still down there? Or did they get rid of everything we didn’t hold dear, too? _ Kassim wondered, looking down into the water. It was clear enough, looked like it could be drunk from, though he wouldn’t trust it, even now. He could wade in safely, reach into the silt, see if he could find it… but some memories are meant to stay buried. Some things shouldn’t come to the surface.

 

There was a time in Kassim’s life when he could have walked through the slums blindfolded, one end to the other, no peeking involved. He and Alibaba once tried to test that, but found themselves eventually slamming into walls. They were so young, then, and it wasn’t until after Alibaba had been whisked away to the castle that Kassim finally had the entire place memorized — until it was all burnt to the ground.

 

Nowadays, there was no skill in running from one end to the other. As long as you kept your feet straight, the orderly rows of Kou-style houses wouldn’t get in the way. There was no risk of accidentally hitting someone’s tent, or finding your way by accident into someone’s open-air kitchen. It rankled Kassim, putting him in as much as a sour mood as he had been in all day.

 

Every day ended up like this. He’d wake up and go to work as a cloth vendor, then get some foodstuffs for Zaynab and eat with them before going home to sleep and do it all again. Every day he noticed something else about how Balbadd had changed. Every day, memories of Alibaba compounded his head, making him wish for them to stop. Every day, he had to live with the fact that they had failed.

 

Alibaba’s sacrifice was in vain, and now Kassim had to live with that.

 

He shook his head, wiped the tears from his eyes, and kept walking. All the “residential areas,” as the Kou called them, were arranged in a “grid system” to keep things easily organized. Every house had a “placement code” that said exactly where they were. Zaynab and Hassan lived at 5, 31. Kassim alternated between strolling, sauntering, and storming five rows deep and thirty-one houses down, his thoughts a constant turmoil of anger and rage and trying to pretend like he wasn’t seething.

 

Upon reaching the right house, Kassim knocked on the door.

 

“Who is it?” asked Zaynab. Her voice sounded cheerier than it had before, less biting and angry, more mellow and sweet. That was probably the weirdest thing of all.

 

“It’s Kassim,” Kassim said. She had always been one of their toughest and most resilient fighters. Kassim knew of more than one person walking around to this very day with Zaynab-mouth-shaped bite marks on their arms and legs between knife scars. Zaynab came to the door and opened it, following another little bit of Koulture that had been made clearly mandatory.

 

“I brought some vegetables for dinner tonight. Hassan’s getting the meat, right?”

 

“He is. You know you don’t have to knock, Kas. You’re always welcome here,” Zaynab said, smiling. The gentle, caring side was new, but it seemed so natural on her. Kassim wondered what she would have been like if she hadn’t been a slumrat. She would be a good mother now, he figured.

 

“I know, but I don’t actually live here, remember?”

 

“No, you’re just here all the time because you haven’t found yourself a girlfriend yet,” Zaynab said, grinning.

 

“Ah, shut up. I don’t need a girlfriend,” Kassim replied unconvincingly. He looked away.

 

“Maybe, but you want one~” Zaynab teased. She stood to the side of the door. “Come on in, Kas. You can put the basket on the table.”

 

“I got some apples, too. I figured we could use a little treat, you know?”

 

“I know Hassan will enjoy them. Thank you, Kassim.”

 

“No problem. Besides, it’s like a little taste of home while you try out that Kou thing with the vegetables,” Kassim said, making Zaynab laugh.

 

“They  _ all _ have vegetables, Kassim. This one is called ‘stir-fry.’ You cut everything up, fry the vegetables in oil, then add the meat. Supposedly, it uses less wood and tastes delicious. Hassan should be home soon...”

 

“When’s the wedding, anyway?” Zaynab froze. Her jaw dropped. She turned to face him.

 

“Hassan hasn’t proposed!”

 

“We all know he’s going to. You two have been together for years already,” Kassim said, taking an apple and slicing it open. He smirked briefly, but it fell soon after. Zaynab took the basket and started in on the vegetables.

 

“Kassim, I know you miss him. It’s not doing any good to pretend like you don’t. You need to do something to ease your pain.”

 

“I know, but I don’t know what to do.”

 

“At least his death isn’t totally in vain. Things are better now. Everyone has food and access to medicine. Our children are getting educated like the rich people did. The future is so much brighter than it used to be,” Zaynab said, smiling.

 

“I know, but...”

 

“But?”

 

“I feel like my fight isn’t over yet, like there’s something left for me to do. Amon is still around. Maybe I need to get Balbadd back together for Alibaba… His vessel wouldn’t be here without him, right?” Kassim asked, touching his earrings. One set was his, one was Alibaba’s.

 

“Didn’t Aladdin say that Amon chose you as his keeper, since Alibaba is gone?”

 

“Yeah,” Kassim said, pausing in his work.

 

“So that means that you’re the metal vessel user for Amon, which means that your fight is as a King or whatever. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

 

“It was before I realized that I shouldn’t have been chasing after Alibaba’s perfect life. What would I even fight?”

 

“I don’t know,” Zaynab said. Her voice grew soft. “You’ve always looked out for us, Kassim. They’ll listen if you want to make them lighten up on their rules. I know Hassan would thank you.”

 

“That’s a good idea, Zaynab. Maybe I can make them get out of Balbadd, too,” Kassim said, partially joking, partially wanting to. He wanted to do  _ something _ more productive than work every day. “I could petition them or something.”

 

“See? You’re already thinking of ways to–“

 

“Auuugh! They’ve got me using their weird words! What the hell is a petition, anyway!?” Kassim clutched his head and dropped to the table. Zaynab laughed drily.

 

“Don’t interrupt me,” she said, hands on hips. “Besides, I’d try the same if  _ you _ died.”

 

“Yeah, right.”

 

“I would! They wouldn’t listen to me, but it wouldn’t stop me from trying. I’d go right down to the castle, demand to speak to the governor, and give him hell until he went away,” Zaynab said, going back to her vegetables and chopping angrily.

 

“You’d really do that?”

 

“Of course I would! Both of us would.”

 

“I’ll try tomorrow, then. I’ll march down and tell the governor to get the hell out of my country and leave us alone.”

 

“Good! Hand me an apple.” Kassim chuckled and went over to Zaynab, putting an apple slice on the counter near her vegetable discards. She popped it in her mouth.

 

“You’ve gotten more demanding since we stopped rebelling,” Kassim said, sitting back down. He went to work on two more apples, peeling them and cutting them up, listened to Zaynab chatter about the job she now held with construction workers to expand the city. According to them, her time in the Troop had given her a good sense of the city as a whole. She had immediately done her job and shrank the size of the rich people’s houses by nearly half to make room for more people and government buildings. Kassim had to laugh at the image of the rich fucks whining about their precious belongings.

 

She started talking instead about things Hassan had told her during his job as a porter at the docks, the things he had helped lift onto ships, things he had overheard, much of which Kassim had already heard. It made him feel more at home to hear them again. Besides, if he didn’t listen to Zaynab, she would get upset.

 

“I’m home!” Hassan called, practically bowling down the door. He slammed a brown paper package on the table, shaking the whole thing.

 

“Watch it, you might break this thing!” Kassim said, steadying it.

 

“Sorry. I brought the meat. Even got it for free. I guess that situation I helped sort out got me some good stuff. You want me to chop it up for you, Zay?”

 

“That’d be great. I’m about to get these veggies in. What was on your mind when you were buying them, Kas?”

 

“I was thinking I was hungry and got ones I like.” Zaynab and Hassan laughed. Kassim laughed with them and leaned back in his chair, his mind wandering. The vegetables went into a large, shallow bowl that Zaynab set over a fire. She added oil and started stirring them around as they cooked.

 

“It smells good,” Hassan commented, slicing the meat up. Kassim nodded absently, hands working until the apples he had picked out were done. Then he moved onto a couple of oranges and put all the slices together in a bowl. He set the table after  as Hassan slipped and had to wrap a finger.

 

“Be careful,” Zaynab tossed over her shoulder.

 

“Yes, dear,” Hassan replied automatically.

 

“Kassim is planning to go to the governor tomorrow about all the changes to our country,” Zaynab said, now that they were talking.

 

“Really? Good. I’ve been itching for a fight. Go and win for us, boss!” Hassan said, pumping his fist in the air.

 

“Yeah!” Zaynab joined him.

 

“I’ll do my best. Can’t promise anything, since they’re nobility,” Kassim said, rolling his eyes. “Gotta keep up the fight for my people, though, right? I can’t let them down.”

 

“Boss,” Hassan said. Kassim looked at him curiously.

 

“Boss, we didn’t have direction before you led us. You made us the Fog Troop, and made us into more than just some petty thieves before that. You made us a band, a family, and we owe you our lives for that. If anyone can set this to rights, it’s you.”

 

“Thanks, Hassan,” Kassim said. He was genuinely touched, and a smile graced his features. It soon fell as memories of Alibaba’s blackened body filled his mind. If anyone could  _ really _ change this country… He shook his head and went back to smiling.

 

“How was work today, Hassan? Did that stuffy guard come back to tell you how to do your job?”

 

“No, and thank whatever gods decided to smile on me. I can’t stand that guy! No, today was pretty normal, just liftin’ boxes and putting them on ships. I still don’t know what’s inside them.”

 

“Probably just goods being shipped around. The Empire is huge,” Zaynab said, and continued when Hassan gave her an attentive look. “I was asked to help design a new building with Kou influence that would keep the whole thing cool. All these architects are talking about ventilation and stuff, I drew out the normal way we build houses and added the weird curved roofs. I even figured out how the curve was going to ruin the cool and pointed it out. They’re testing that now.” She put her head in her hand. “I just wish they’d taken me seriously the first time.”

 

“Aw, babe, they’re not taking you seriously? Let me at them, I’ll set them straight. They won’t know what hit ‘em!” Hassan said, pounding his fist. He tried to pick up a strip of beef with a pair of chopsticks and dropped it. “I’ll never get used to these things.”

 

“You will, it just takes practice,” Zaynab said, chuckling. “Besides, it also takes some control in the strength department.”

 

“Yeah, yeah… What about you, Kas? How was work today?”

 

“Same as usual. I don’t know why I’m a cloth vendor, but it’s a pretty easy job. It’s mostly mothers looking for cloth to make clothes for their children. I helped a woman pick some out that was more ‘authentic’ than the others for some reason. It’s more expensive. She decided it was the perfect stuff for her son’s acceptance party. Guess he got into some university or whatever, and she even thanked me profusely for making it possible with getting rid of the old monarchy so we could live Kou.” Kassim smiled and shook his head. He knew he wasn’t the one who deserved such praise, but it couldn’t be helped.

 

His brother wasn’t here.

 

“Wow, really? The universities of the Empire are supposed to be really tough to get into!” Zaynab said, grinning. “If I didn’t already have my heart set on running a business, I’d try to get into one.”

 

“You’d be a great businesswoman, Zaynab. Maybe you’ll get thanked someday, too.”

 

“Yeah, and I’ll have a whole procession down the street. Nah, I just want to make things to help people ease their lives a little more.” Hassan came over to her and dropped the thin slices of beef into the bowl-thing, then hugged Zaynab from behind as she stirred everything together with some Kou sauce that was supposed to be popular.

 

“Maybe you should try stew tomorrow,” Kassim said, wanting something familiar. Zaynab flipped the mix into the air and caught it easily.

 

“Ooh, stew sounds good, boss. I’ll get whatever you need for it, baby!” Hassan declared, making Zaynab laugh.

 

“You do that, babe. I’ll make you stew any day.” She finished cooking and divided the spoils into three bowls, setting them in their places around where Kassim had put their utensils. Seeing that he had added the old Balbadd stuff, Zaynab frowned.

 

“You know we’re not supposed to use the old Balbadd stuff, Kassim,” she said.

 

“Just tonight? I need it.” Kassim looked at her, and she saw that his passion for the fight he was about to start stemmed deep. She sighed and nodded.

 

“For tonight… and for as long as you need. Any time you’re over for dinner, we can decorate like we used to.” She smiled warmly, and Kassim smiled back. The three of them sat together and started eating, Hassan having a good grasp of them despite his earlier words, all but shoveling the meat and vegetables into his mouth. Zaynab tried to get him to slow down. Hassan argued that he was hungry from all the boxes he had had to lift and immediately started choking.

 

“I told you!” Zaynab said, pumping his stomach until he coughed up a salivated ball of mush. As the two started arguing between mouthfuls, Kassim couldn’t help but smile wistfully. Even now, they were the same Zaynab and Hassan that he had always known. His pace slowed as memories of the old slums — the  _ real _ slums — surfaced in his mind. All those times trying to make ends meet before he turned to crime, trying to get as much food as they could out of paltry scraps and copper coins, the robberies they did out of desperation.

 

He missed it.

 

He could remember the first argument that these two had had. It was the night they had decided to rob their first caravan. Hassan had been so adamant about Zaynab not joining them because she wasn’t a man. The two had argued back and forth for an hour, each coming up with points that were, looking back, utterly ridiculous. Kassim had been just about to take Hassan’s side on the matter of women not being robbers when Zaynab stopped them cold.

 

“It’s either rob people or whore myself out! I don’t want to die of disease! I don’t… I don’t want to feel like I don’t get to have a life because other people are using my body!” Zaynab had shouted. Hassan’s mouth gaped like a fish before closing altogether. Kassim’s jaw dropped and tightened.

 

“She’s coming with,” he declared. She became their toughest fighter, so fearless and ready to take on the world. Now, she was playing safe. It felt unlike her.

 

“Kassim? Are you okay?” Hassan asked.

 

“What’s on your mind? You stopped eating,” Zaynab said.

 

“It’s nothing. So many new things showed up so fast. It surprises me,” Kassim said. He laughed.

 

“Yeah, life ain’t what it used to be,” Hassan agreed.

 

“It’s better in a lot of ways. Everyone has food, we get to be educated. We don’t have to worry like we used to,” Zaynab said. The other two nodded.

 

Once dinner was over, Kassim helped to clean up, then went to the door.

 

“I’m heading home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

“Have a good night, Kas!” Zaynab said.

 

“Be safe on your walk home. Don’t upset anyone,” Hassan said.

 

“Enjoy yourselves.” Kassim left with a smile on his face, but it soon fell as he wound his way through town to a remote part of the slums, wanting to talk to someone else before he went home for the night. All the buildings looked the same, the only differences being that some had one type of plant hanging outside, some another, some none at all. The lanterns were still burning inside several houses, but many windows were darkened. Once, the nightlife would have bustled as men and women came together to drink, to smoke, to have sex. It was all they had in the slums. Part of Kassim wondered if it was any different anywhere else, or if every slum in the world had the same tiny list of activities for the residents. He turned down a street to that remote corner and saw what he was looking for.

 

A large, burnt-to-death tree stood over a still-empty field. The place had remained relatively untouched. The Empire had tried to take the field to use, but it felt wrong. This was where the fire had started. This was where the only tree in the slums had stood so long ago. This was where Kassim had met with Alibaba that night, long since it had happened, after his little sister died.

 

This was where his sister was buried.

 

Kassim knelt before the stone that had her name carved into it. He had chosen the place especially for her, decided to form the Fog Troop here, and still came to her for advice. She seemed to know best, or maybe he just thought better around family.

 

“Hey, little sis, how are you?” he asked. He knew a reply was impossible. She was long gone. Part of him felt that her spirit had left them behind.

 

“I’m doing well,” Kassim continued. “Balbadd is way different from what it used to be. I’m surprised at how much has changed. I bet you would be, too. Earlier, Zaynab made something called ‘stir-fry.’ You would have liked it. It had fried vegetables like we never got in the slums before, and plenty of meat for all three of us. Can you believe it? She and Hassan can afford to have that on a regular basis thanks to their jobs.” 

 

Kassim stopped talking. He pulled a cigar out of his sleeve and lit it, leaned against the tree and took a drag, looked up at the stars that shone brightly, then down to his sister’s grave.

 

“I miss you, Mariam.”

 

Sometime later, the moon had set. It must have been hours since Kassim had gone out to visit his sister’s grave. He finally left the tree behind, sauntering off down the streets of the evenly organized slums to his own house.

 

The fog was thick that night, like it was the night before, and he chuckled humorlessly. There were still plenty of reminders for their struggles as the lowest class of people. They were hardly even slumdogs anymore. Abundant resources for everyone made sure of that.

 

Some part of Kassim’s mind was ready to accept that, that the life he knew and hated was gone. A large part of him didn’t want to let go, not of the hatred, not of the feeling he had. This new life had nothing exciting. At least, with the memories of the bad old days, he had  _ something _ .

 

He entered his bare-bones house, barely observing the lack of decoration, food, and any homey touches before shucking his robe and laying out a fresh one. The bed was untouched, a strange Kou mat that was comfortable, if cheap. It wasn’t for him.

 

Within the bed, as untouched as it was, was Amon’s sword.

 

Kassim gave the hilt a quick touch, felt it respond to him, and laid down on the dirt floor, curling into a second blanket he had bought for himself. He preferred it like this, like how they all slept together as a family. He curled in tighter against the loneliness.

  
  
  


The next morning, Kassim rose to the sounds of birds chirping greetings across the city of Balbadd. Land birds competed with sea birds for the first scraps of food of the day. Remembering that he probably needed to eat something, Kassim decided to slice a watermelon in half, assuming he still had one. He could eat it on his way to work —

 

No, wait. He was going to the castle today, wasn’t he? To “discuss” the changes that had happened to his city and try to rectify them. Because of that, Kassim grabbed a smoked fish from a barrel and swallowed it in a few gulps as he strapped Amon to his side. The sword was the only real claim to leadership he had to these people. With it hanging heavy by his side, Kassim set off for the castle gates.

 

These gates had been remodeled with the rest of the city. No longer the great wooden drawbridge set in stone that he was familiar with, the archway had been made square, the drawbridge made into red doors. Both doors were embossed with golden geometric lines. These guys really  _ were _ rich, if this outside place had gold on it. Even the wall’s new curved roof was lined with gold.

 

What was up with those roofs anyways? Kassim didn’t have time to wonder, as he was far from the castle and wanted to get there quickly. He could just make out the red of those gates from where he stood, fishbone hanging from his mouth and fresh robes on his body. He made a quick mental note to drop his laundry off at Zaynab’s soon so he wouldn’t have to wear dirty clothes and blasphemously offend some random Kou person.

 

The sun was just starting to rise over the city, and rolling clouds of fog drifted around, slowly burning off and making the red doors more visible and seemingly out of reach, poking out of the dense white like they were. Somehow, the sight inspired confidence in Kassim. He raised his head higher and walked into the morning mist.

 

The districts were more clearly defined now that commerce wasn’t the most central point of Balbadd. There were clear indications of storefronts along the main thoroughfare, from the seaside taverns and fish shops to the clothiers and crafters, each running from where they were most relevant to where they were most sought after. As Kassim went further and further up, the shops changed from convenience to things that were more for glamour and leisure. A tattoo parlor stood small between an exotic fruit vendor and an acupressurist, a law office stood closer to the castle than a doctor’s office. It was all thought-out, planned.

 

It had happened so quickly that Kassim refused to believe it was really done spontaneously like the guards liked to claim.

 

As the fog lifted, Kassim started seeing the blue robes of learned men who had attended universities in their old homes. Many of them were of “opulent occupations,” things like doctors, lawyers, accountants, mathematicians, and the like. They were busybodies who were too good for the masses like Kassim. Several turned their noses up at his green robes.

 

In order to hide his own disgust at them, Kassim turned to study a sign for an acupressurist. He had no idea what the profession was, but the sign showed a man with holes all over his body. Fearing the worst, Kassim walked quickly away. Better not to be near places that killed people, he figured, lighting a cigar to replace the fishbones he had spat out.

 

“Morning, sir,” he said to a passing guard. The guard raised an eyebrow at him and moved on.

 

Up ahead, with most of the morning mist gone, the red doors of the castle stood more imposingly than the previous drawbridge had. Kassim pulled the cigar from his mouth and blew smoke out, then dropped it on the ground, put it out, and approached the gates.

 

“Halt! Who goes there!?” demanded one of the guards. At least this one didn’t ignore him.

 

“My name is Kassim. I’d like to speak to the governor,” Kassim answered coolly.

 

“And what business do  _ you _ have with him? He’s far too important and busy to talk to some common rabble!”

 

“Right, right. Well, send a message to him and tell him that the leader of the Fog Troop is waiting for him, and unless he decides to see me today, I’ll rally everyone again.”  _ That _ got their attention. Even these implants had heard of the Fog Troop’s activities in Balbadd before they arrived. They knew that the group wasn’t as powerful as they wanted to be, but also knew that they had rallied successfully against a pitiful King for years. Neither of the guards present wanted to be responsible for another uprising, especially not one that had a chance, so one sent for a messenger and dictated what Kassim had said.

 

It was sent off immediately, and a message was returned in under half an hour. Kassim smiled. The guard who dictated read the response, laughing all the while, then pointed at something on the paper to his gate buddy, who also laughed.

 

“Looks like you got your audience, Fog Troop Leader. Watch your step.” Kassim nodded, having no idea as to why they were laughing. Could it be that a trap was being laid for him? Could they put one together so quickly? Part of Kassim hoped that Amon would respond to him as it had responded to Alibaba before, and his hand went unbidden to the earrings. He needed some protection in here. The heavy doors closed behind him, trapping him within this place that could turn on him in an instant.

 

He didn’t think it likely that the old tunnel Alibaba had made survived.

 

All around, guards paced through their routes, and one came to greet Kassim as he entered the front courtyard.

 

“I’m here to escort you to the throne room. Our governor will see you when he is ready to.”

 

“Aw, I don’t bite. He doesn’t need to change his pants.”

 

“Bite your tongue,  _ commoner _ ! Insults to our governor will not be tolerated here!” Kassim pursed his lips at the name, spat with venom, like there was some shame in being “common.” The guard turned and quickened his pace, huffing angrily all the while. Kassim kept pace easily.

 

“Hey, you guys prioritize good things for the people, right? Could you prioritize my walking speed and slow down?” Kassim asked, biting back a laugh as he jogged backwards next to the guard. The guard let out an exasperated sigh and slowed down.

 

“Is this better?”

 

“Yes, it is. Thank you, kind sir.” They went past several military areas, and Kassim could see soldiers training in various skills. Archers hit their marks with terrifying accuracy, swordsmen sliced up stuffed dummies with ease, horsemen kept their paces in difficult-looking obstacle courses, spearmen kept wide berths open for their weapons. Kassim whistled low, seeing that it was meant to intimidate newcomers. His eyes narrowed as he gauged his chances.

 

Another door was opened, another part of the castle was opened before him. This part bristled with servants, all flitting here and there down the halls in orderly lines, acting like a constantly changing parade as they went about their duties. Kassim noted with a tight face that many of them were slaves. He breathed deeply and looked away, trying to forget that that was almost his destiny as a citizen of Balbadd. At least he was still free. The sight of them, though it relaxed the constant nausea in his stomach at being a citizen of Kou, made him more determined than ever to get the Empire out of his country. These people were why he was here.

 

After another large door and more hallways, Kassim felt like they might be wandering in circles. The halls did turn more decadent, however, proving that feeling wrong. More of the geometric-looking designs were painted onto the walls in gold. The windows were wide and open, spreading morning sunlight onto dark wooden floors. Plants and ornate vases were placed regularly between thick red pillars. Kassim absorbed it all as they walked along, almost getting lost on more than one occasion as he kept walking when he should have turned, lip crinkling and nose curling all the same.

 

“Is this where all our taxes go?” he asked disdainfully.

 

“Quiet, you!” the guard snapped. He turned toward a large open area in front of an equally large pair of double doors. Guards lined the walls, muttering came from within. The doors opened, allowing Kassim entrance to the room beyond.


	2. His Name Is Ren Kouen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kassim meets Kouen and gets an unexpected offer — as well as a crisis over it.

The room beyond was the throne room. It was a long rectangle with a dais at the far end, a long and wide red carpet running all the way across, rows and rows of benches on either side, and an ostentatiously carved ceiling. It all looked expensive. Kassim whistled low and turned his attention to the sides. Seated at the rows and rows of benches were dozens of men in white robes and various styles. Every one of them was looking down at him, incredulity and derision in their glares. Kassim diverted his eyes from their sneering gazes to the man who sat upon the throne.

 

The throne itself was carved from hardwood and perfectly symmetrical, adorned with gold paint and rich red cushioning. Upon it sat a man with severe features and piercing eyes. Had Kassim not been dealing with men who were intimidating for his entire life and winning against them, he would have been near-instantly cowed. He kept a cool face and met the gaze of this man easily, not letting the rising fear show. Instead, Kassim focused on what had happened to his country at the hands of this man and let the rage seeth inside him.

 

“Presenting the Governor of Balbadd, His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Ren Kouen!”

 

“So, you are the one who led the Fog Troop before our arrival,” Kouen said.

 

“And you’re the one who’s killed thousands in other countries and caused our economy to crumble,” Kassim replied. It was difficult to maintain composure. Kouen’s face hardened and his eyes became fiercer. Keeping a mind on his reason for coming was hard.

 

“I am. What business do you have here?” With a quick look around, Kassim realized that the nobles assumed their prince had everything under control. They hadn’t noticed that, for the briefest moment, he had shown some negative emotion. Kassim filed the information away to consider later.

 

“I’m here to talk about all these changes you’ve been making,” Kassim said. “You’ve changed Balbadd way too much. We were promised that we would be a republic, but you went and ruined all of that!”

 

“Enough.”

 

“I’m not done—”

 

“I said,  _ enough _ .” The words were merely spoken, but the tone behind them silenced Kassim.

“Why is this important to you?” Kouen asked.

 

“Because Balbadd isn’t supposed to be like this! We’re not supposed to have slaves, or guards on every corner, or any of the weird stuff you’ve introduced, or — or you!” That got the attention of the nobles. They started muttering, then shouting.

 

“How dare you! Insolent whelp! Commoners shouldn’t be allowed to speak!” they cried. Kouen waved them quiet.

 

“And what would you propose as a solution?” 

 

“Get out.”

 

“Why?”

 

“What?”

 

“Why would I leave?”

 

“Because… because…” Kassim hadn’t even thought of  _ why _ , just that it needed to happen. But that gave him his answer. “Because Balbadd should be ruling itself. That was the deal that Alibaba put forth, that your princess Kougyoku was going to allow! You shouldn’t be here at all! He… should have been the one to take over our country. And since he can’t, it’s up to us to rule Balbadd ourselves. Get out!”

 

Kouen leaned toward one of his monstrous attendants and whispered something to him. The man was ridiculously tall with snakes for hair, something Kassim only noticed when he nodded. Nothing happened.

 

“Are you just going to ignore me? Am I not good enough to consider? Listen to me! Go home! Leave Balbadd alone!” The court started speaking all at once again.

 

“Insolence — how dare he speak that way — That is our prince! — What a nuisance — Arrest him!” More and more, until every noble in the room was out for his blood. Kassim stood against the insults, biting the inside of his lip as his hand landed on Amon. He could feel the magic within thrum at his touch. His eyes whipped around wildly, fear shot through his heart, anger rose in him and burned. Of  _ course _ these nobles preferred he be dead, instead of facing the truth of what they had done. Why had he expected any different? He had one more shot.

 

“Do you really think you can get the citizens to respect you as their leader!? You don’t know us! Why  _ should _ we respect you, huh!?” At that moment, Kassim felt something attack. For just the barest moment he knew he was in danger, and managed a yelp by the time a snake had opened its mouth, hissed, and wrapped itself around him. He struggled against it, but it refused to let go.

 

“What the–”

 

“I will deal with you personally,” Kouen said, standing and striding down the carpet. He passed Kassim with barely a glance. Even his attendants ignored him, aside from the one with the snakes who had captured him. As that one approached, Kassim could feel the snake around him lose a little grip and a lot of length until it let go of him. An impossibly strong arm wrapped around his waist and hoisted him over the monster’s shoulder.

 

“Let me go!”

 

“Settle down,” the monster said.

 

“The hell you mean, ‘settle down!?’ This is kidnapping!” Kassim tried to land a kick, but a snake grabbed his leg and, once again, refused to let go.

 

“Dammit…” He knew he was beaten, so Kassim just let himself hang there as the pigs of the court snickered and sneered behind their flowing sleeves.

 

It would be so satisfying to just grab one of those sleeves and drag its owner over the fence barrier between him and them. Kassim snapped his teeth at one, instead.

  
“What are you lookin’ at!?”

  
  
  


He saw more halls when he bothered to look around at all. For the most part, Kassim just looked at the ground and counted the threads of the rich carpets when he could differentiate them from the mass of red. Sometimes he focused on the bare feet of the monster man carrying him.

 

“Are we there yet? I don’t want to wait all day to get my head chopped off, y’know,” Kassim said somewhere around a hundred and fifty-seven threads.

 

“Yes,” Kouen replied. The sound of a door reached Kassim’s ears. He tried to twist around to see which door and where in the castle he was, but the monster man shook him none-too-gently, causing Kassim to flop over. He grunted in annoyance.

 

“Sit him down,” said Kouen. Kassim was put gently on a couch, sank into the plushness, and pursed his lips. Not a single part of these people’s lives wasn’t decadent to the extreme, it seemed. He crossed one leg over the other, pulled a cigar from his pocket, and lit it. Kouen raised an eyebrow.

 

“You want one?” Kassim asked.

 

“No, thank you,” Kouen replied as smoke billowed from Kassim’s mouth.

 

“Wow! Actual manners! I didn’t think blue bloods like you were capable!”

 

“What is your perception of nobility?”

 

“Oh, you know, the usual. You’re a bunch of assholes who care more about your own lives and fat coin pouches and exploiting the real workers of your country.” Kassim jabbed his chest at the last part. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that already. Isn’t it obvious? Oh, wait, I almost forgot–” Kassim leaned in “– You don’t know because none of you ever listen until it’s too late. Right?” He leaned back against the couch and took another drag, blowing the smoke into the air between them.

 

Kouen mused on Kassim’s words. The smoke hung between them for awhile, obscuring their faces from each other. Finally, he motioned for the smoke to be cleared away. His hands folded in front of him and he rested his chin on them, elbows on knees, until the servants had cleared the air.

 

“If I left with my court, other powers would take their place. No system is perfect, but we offer a better alternative to being slaves. Why is it really so important that we leave? The system of government you sought to institute would have taken time to be effective. It would have confused the people and made things difficult. It would also have given rise to greater corruption down the line. Did you think of any of this?”

 

“No, but we would have made it work.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Why what?”

 

“Why try to make it work when it would have been easier to simply allow us to take over without fuss?”

 

“Because it was Alibaba’s idea. He was the one who inspired the Fog Troop to fight for a better future. He fought his brothers and your vanguard. He even fought me, all for his country. Now he’s dead. I owe him my life, so I’m getting his country back from you,” Kassim said.

 

“You shouldn’t let your emotions cloud your judgement. I understand Alibaba was important–”

 

“ _ Prince _ Alibaba. He was still a part of the royal family.” They stared at each other, and Kouen sighed.

 

“Prince Alibaba was important to the people. He would have been the optimal ruler for this country. My brother and I had agreed on that. It was why we offered a political marriage in the first place. Balbadd, as a country, is too important to war with or lose its leaders. However, he is now dead, and the burden of leading the country now falls to me.”

 

“It doesn’t have to. You could pack your bags and leave us to sort ourselves out.”

 

“I refuse. Besides, he was not the only option we had. His brothers are meek and useless as rulers. You, however…”

 

“Me?”

 

“With the royal family gone and you being the previous leader of the Fog Troop, a force to be reckoned with, the power of which is recognized even now, you, Kassim, would be the best ruler for Balbadd at this time. I can govern as much as I wish to, but you’re right: the people do not respect me as their ruler. They would respect you.”

 

“If you’re looking for my help, you’re not going to get it,” Kassim said, crossing his arms and blowing out more smoke, this time to the side.

 

“I cannot force you. I would ask you to consider the offer and talk to my little brother about what exactly it is we would ask of you.”

 

“You seriously expect me to willingly roll over for some idiot prince and his little brother?” All three attendants bristled.

 

“You watch your tongue!” a large one with black teeth shouted.

 

“You would do well not to insult me here,” Kouen said. “Do you understand the circumstances of your current position? You’re surrounded by people who could easily become your enemy. If you choose to fight now, you will not return home alive.”

 

“I really doubt you’d let me go alive anyway,” Kassim replied.

 

“What purpose would there be in killing you so rashly? If you die because you chose to fight, that is not our problem. We will simply use your death to establish ourselves as indomitable. You would not be able to accomplish your goals from the grave.” At that, Kassim balked. He looked at Kouen, tried to find an out. Finally, he spoke.

 

“What if I don’t accept your proposal?”

 

“If you do not, life continues as it has been since we arrived with no changes.”

 

“Seriously? You wouldn’t even listen to me?”

 

“We have no time to waste on the words of a commoner,” Kouen said. “Especially one in a region that’s already been unified with the rest of the Empire.”

 

“‘Region?’ We’re not even a country anymore to you?”

 

“No. If you want to maintain that position, you would do well to maintain it silently.” Kouen waved a hand. A servant ran off into the castle.

 

“Yeah, right. If I keep silent, you can pretend like King Sinbad isn’t in your capital city talking to the Emperor right now and securing our freedom.”

 

“His attempts to gain Balbadd instead of us have already ended in failure, as you can see from anywhere in the city,” Kouen said simply. Kassim’s eyes widened at that.

 

“You mean…?” This was bad news.

 

“Yes, I do. The moment we came to Balbadd, it didn’t matter what Sinbad planned to do.” They had already lost before the battle had begun. Kassim gripped his thighs, digging into the flesh.

 

“You’re wrong… This isn’t the end of it. We’re going to find a way to succeed, to get you off our backs!” Kassim shouted.

 

“Am I interrupting? Or is it okay for me to enter now?”

 

“Come in, Koumei,” Kouen said, looking to someone else. Kassim turned a baleful eye on the newcomer, whose blank stare met him without so much as a flinch. This man was fairly tall, with long red hair that fell in messy tangles, part in a ponytail, part over his shoulders. He wore the white robes of the nobility with a baggier pink robe overtop of it, and some weird Kou symbol repeated on his chest, single earring, bracelets, and robe.

 

He held a black-feathered fan that seemed to resonate with Amon.

 

“Who are you?” Kassim asked.

 

“I am Second Prince Ren Koumei. You are?” His eyes were almost glassy. If Kassim didn’t know better, he would have assumed a corpse had come to life.

 

“Kassim.”

 

“Sir Kassim, it is a pleasure to meet you. What brings you to the castle today?” he asked, bowing with his hands clasped in that Kou way.

 

“He has come to discuss the changes that have happened to Balbadd. You remember our previous conversation?” Kouen asked. Koumei nodded.

 

“Then you were the leader of the Fog Troop. Your word holds weight in this region. It truly is an honor to meet one as esteemed as yourse–”

 

“Cut the bullshit,” Kassim said. “Your flattery is sickening.” Koumei stared for a second, caught off-guard, then recovered.

 

“My apologies. Shall we discuss the matter of your employment with us?”

 

“Fine, since I doubt you’ll let me leave without talking my ear off about this.” Kassim made himself comfortable on the couch, lighting another cigar. “Shoot.”

 

“As you’ve noticed, the people of this region–”

 

“Region?”

 

“– are still proud as citizens of their old country. In order to help them adjust, someone they trust is invaluable to lead the way. We would require that you continue to walk among them and speak to them. Help them come to terms with their new lives and make things easier alongside us. You have already made your current concerns known. Yours are not the only ones. Help us help your people become a proper part of the Kou Empire.”

 

“You want me to talk to them and make them feel like being taken over and restricted in their rights is a good thing?”

 

“‘Given new freedom’ is a more accurate term. Tell me: what could you do before?”

 

“Leave the country without being hunted down.”

 

“You say that as though it is not possible now. You need only–”

 

“– Select the right path as long as it was given to you. A cloth merchant like me could go out if I was able to charter a ship —  _ with permission  _ — and sell cloth —  _ with permission. _ I can’t do anything myself. I have to ask first like a  _ child _ ,” Kassim said, slamming his cigar into the table. Koumei didn’t even blink.

 

“And what do you suggest?”

 

“You get out of my country and let us rule ourselves like we were going to,” Kassim said, staring hard. He felt his skin go cold as Koumei’s gaze sharpened in an instant, and he looked away.

 

“Where would that leave you?” Koumei asked, drawing himself up. He became instantly intimidating, his once gloomy aura taking on a darker feeling and permeating the room. Even Kouen looked toward the wall and covered his lower face, concentrating on not wavering.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You don’t understand the gravity of such a simple question. You couldn’t possibly understand the gravity of leaving as suddenly as you wish us to. We are ingrained into your infrastructure. Your country would be much worse off if we were to leave now. Had you asked us to go before we started, things would have been different. Unfortunately, that time was years before your revolution began.”

 

“Years before? You mean when the nobility started using your money?”

 

“You  _ are _ smart,” Koumei noted.

 

“Thanks,” Kassim grated out.

 

“We destabilized this country to make it easier to assimilate. We had hoped to have no bloodshed, but your revolution had more cost than we initially planned for. However, I must thank you. Because of the Fog Troop, the previous King was hard-pressed to resist us. He needed more money to compensate for the damages you caused to his coffers in those last months.” Koumei bowed to Kassim. “You have my gratitude for speeding the process.”

 

Kassim slammed his fist on the table, both brothers jumped.

 

“You mean to tell me that the reason my country is being destroyed by you is  _ because of me!?” _

 

“If you’re so intent on phrasing it as such, then yes. You are the reason your country was destroyed.” Kassim got up angrily and stalked to the door just as another came around the corner.

  
“En-nii-san, the repor– Ah! Hey, watch where you’re going!”

 

“Out of my way, shrimp,” Kassim said angrily, some part of his mind recognizing this particular man in his weird white clothes and hat, with those red eyes and pink hair in braids.

 

“Shrimp, huh?” Those eyes of his went from hot anger to cold, and for the third time in an hour, Kassim felt himself wilt. The man strode forward, pushing Kassim back into the room by sheer will.

 

“You know, you have a lot of nerve coming all the way up here to tell my brother to get out of this place like it’s still  _ your _ country. It hasn’t been since our ships landed on your shore, and I suggest you get used to that before things get  _ bad _ for you. I’d be more than happy to deal with you myself. After all, I’m still a little stung that you rolled your eyes at me yesterday, but it looks like that’s just a sweet glaze on the bean bun,” the short man hissed. Kassim toppled back onto the couch. 

 

“Junjun! My sword!”

 

“You think some sword is gonna scare me?” Kassim asked, feeling pulling at his side where Alibaba’s dagger was strapped to him. He prepared to draw it.

 

“It might! It is a metal vessel, after all!” Kouha shouted.

 

“So is his.” Kassim and Kouha whipped their heads to look at Kouen. “Or did you not notice when you saw him yesterday?”

 

“He didn’t have a knife on yesterday. Where were you concealing this before?”

 

“I usually keep it at my house, like a good little boy,” Kassim hissed. He turned to look at Koumei as Kouha put a foot down on his stomach. “Mommy, can I carry a knife?”

 

“You ought to correct the delusion that you are a child. It’s unbecoming.” Kassim frowned at the response and struggled against Kouha. A woman in white and covered in weird Kou papers held an unfairly large black sword.

 

“I brought your sword, Master Kouha!”

 

“Thank you, Junjun.” Kouha took the sword and swung it up over his shoulder easily. “Time for you to suffer!”

 

“Kouha. We need him alive,” Kouen said.

  
“Right. One slice?”

 

“If you really can’t stop yourself.” Kassim didn’t understand what happened, but for some reason, Kouha paused. He glanced back at his brother, then relented his force and hopped back, standing between Kassim and the door.

 

“Thank you,” said Kouen. “Do you need a refresher on what we have been discussing?”

 

“No, I’m fine. I have to help you or I die. If I don’t help, then my fellow countrymen keep suffering because of you.”

 

“You make us sound evil,” Kouha said, rolling his eyes.

 

“Don’t roll your eyes. I might be tempted to threaten and kill you,” Kassim replied, lighting a third cigar.

 

“Must you smoke inside? Take it to the balcony,” Koumei said. He covered his nose preemptively. Kassim took a small drag and blew the smoke out.

 

“Fine,” he said. “Make sure I don’t jump to my death.”

 

Kassim got up and went to the open-doored balcony, leaning against the stone rail. The other three joined him. Kouen leaned against the rail on his left. Koumei stood silently on the right. Kouha stayed by the entrance.

 

Staring out onto the city was calming. Kassim had never seen the view from this place before. Below were the buildings of the Kou Empire, arranged in neat rows along the winding streets. He could even see the residential area where he lived. The harbor was full of white-sailed ships bearing the seal of the Kou Empire. Among them were red-sailed ships — fancier, sturdier, more beautiful ships than the others. And past those… The ocean.

 

She was as beautiful as she always was. After all these years, Kassim thought that his feelings on the ocean had softened and disappeared. Seeing her now, from this place, his love for the country was reignited. Their livelihoods depended on her kindness. Their fates were swirled in her tides. If the ocean stayed the same through everything their country did, it could handle another country.

 

“You…” he started, then sighed. “You win. I’ll help.”

 

“What changed your mind?” Koumei asked.

 

“You wouldn’t understand, foreigner. Maybe you’ll find out one day.” Kassim took a drag off the cigar, then put it out and let it drop onto the balcony floor.

 

“Seriously!? Get that off the floor! Were you raised in a barn?” Kouha asked angrily, gesturing at the cigar.

 

“Nope, just the slums,” Kassim replied. “Can I go?”

 

“Soon. First, we’ll need to get you fitted for proper clothing. Kouha, you’re in charge of that. Please make him look decent,” Koumei said.

 

“Even commoners should be able to look good, Mei-nii-san. What are you looking for?”

 

“He’s going to be our intermediary for the locals and immigrants.”

 

“Got it. Come on,” Kouha said, tossing his sword back to the woman from before. There were two other women with her, and more of the Kou papers hung from them. Kassim sighed and followed him, feeling like this was some sort of mistake, though he couldn’t place how.

  
  
  


He found out how in approximately ten minutes, as Kouha had him stripped naked on a raised circular platform in a room full of clothes and cloth. Several were familiar to him.

 

“Why am I here?”

 

“To get a new uniform for you position. It’s pretty unique. Usually, we just put whoever’s in charge in noble white. Looks like Mei-nii-san wants you to have something special. Usual white underneath, but give him the green over top,” Kouha said, the last part directed to a man with a marked length of leather. That man, the tailor, told Kassim to move his body in certain ways, holding the leather to him and marking things down on a clipboard.

 

“Is that really necessary?”

 

“Of course it is! Everyone has specific clothing that indicates what their status is. Yours is as a commoner and advisor. There aren’t a lot of people with that title, and none of them are considered important enough to need new clothing.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Usually we have a royal.” Kouha shrugged and walked around Kassim, considering him in a way that was unfamiliar. Kassim felt like a sheep at market. He spent his time waiting for this ordeal to be over by comparing the sheep feeling to the cockroach feeling he was used to. After what felt like an eternity, the man with the leather was done, and he had landed on preferring feeling like a cockroach. At least he knew how to deal with that.

 

“Alright, you can get dressed. We’ll have your new uniform ready for you by tomorrow. It will be delivered to your house in time for you to get dressed for your first day,” Kouha said, going over to the clipboard. He started drawing something. Kassim pulled his robes on, glad to cover himself up. 

 

“It’s a shame, though! I was going to make you my personal servant, as punishment for disrespecting me. Probably only for a shopping trip. Maybe I’ll drag you out, anyway.”

 

“I might prefer it to this,” Kassim said, walking out the door as he strapped Amon to his waist. He could feel a wretchedness starting to rise up in him. No amount of oceanic inspiration could shake out the feeling that doing this was some sort of betrayal. He knew who he needed to talk to, but… 

 

At this time, it wasn’t even noon. He couldn’t just stroll down and talk to her in broad daylight. If someone saw him, they would think he was losing it. Although, if he was declared insane, he might be excused from this job… No. No, he couldn’t use Mariam like that.

 

“Hey! I didn’t dismiss you!” Kouha shouted.

 

“I thought it was obvious that you had,” Kassim replied.

 

“Wait for a direct order. Come here.”

 

“What do you need  _ now?” _

 

“I need you to pick out the cloth you want your white in. I recommend something soft,” Kouha said. Kassim trudged back to the room and entered.

 

“How am I supposed to choose one?”

 

“Pick one that feels nice. That’s how I do it. Which reminds me… Tell me when you have one!” With that, Kouha skipped off to discuss something with the man, leaving Kassim to his own devices. He made for the door.

 

“Don’t even think about it! I’ll have you hunted down.” That left poor Kassim stuck for awhile, riffling through cloths of many textures, wondering at some of them. There was one kind in particular he had never seen before.

 

“Hey! What is this stuff?” he asked, holding up a bolt of it.

 

“Hm? Oh, that’s silk. It’s a Kou specialty. My own clothing is made from it,” Kouha said, glowing.

 

“Huh.” Kassim put the silk back. It was ridiculously soft under his hands. He needed something rougher than that — something familiar. He found it further up the racks of cloths, a simple linen that was nearly the exact same as what he was so used to wearing. A small smile crested his face as he felt it in his hands.

 

“This one,” he said, turning to the pair as Kouha held the silk up and gestured to various points on his body, the tailor nodding.

 

“Alright, hand it to the tailor and your robes will be ready tomorrow,” Kouha said, hardly paying attention at first. As Kassim handed the cloth over, however, he set his own down.

 

“Hold on. You seriously want clothing made out of this stuff?”

 

“Yeah? Why, is that a problem for you?”

 

“You have the chance to get something really nice for yourself and you’re wasting it on some common linen? People say  _ I’m  _ crazy.”

 

“I noticed you guys use a lot of cotton. I prefer linen. It’s what we use here, since there’s a lot of flax around and it keeps us cool. It’s good for this environment,” Kassim said, pushing the cloth into the tailor’s hands. “Can I go now?”

 

“Fine,” Kouha said, watching Kassim walk away again. “What are you doing today?”

 

“I’m gonna find a nice place to hang myself from!” Kassim said over his shoulder, waving. Kouha startled, immediately going into protection mode, and motioned for his trio to follow Kassim closely.

 

Three artificial magicians who aren’t trained to sneak well are not going to be able to hide from a master of stealth like Kassim, so of course he knew they were on him from the start. He just shrugged and figured he would lose them soon in the streets.

 

Three artificial magicians who maintain excellent track of records, items, and one prince who does things his own way are  _ excellent _ at not being shaken, as Kassim found out approximately one hour later, having doubled back more than twenty times, stalked through different twists and turns, gone fast at some places and slow at others, straight up hid in a barrel at one point — still, they were there, like an unshakeable ghost. It was creepy. Kassim decided to just open his shop for the rest of the day… once he had something to eat.

 

They kept watch on him, one of them occasionally whispering something, all three of them maintaining “stealthy” places as he found a bun shop and took some with him. They would have been less suspicious out in the open. Kassim returned to work and sold his cloth to customers until the sun was nearly down. He closed the shop and went to the food stalls, hoping to get some things for the stew that night, nearly forgetting about them until one of them knocked into something. Kassim sighed.

 

“You three can head home. Whatever your master is worried about, he doesn’t need to be. I’m not dying now,” he said, waving goodbye to them.

 

“You knew we were there the whole time!?”

 

“Yep.” He bought more vegetables, not daring to haggle with the three of them so close, then headed back to Zaynab’s as the trio finally left him alone, probably to report back to their precious master.

 

“How did it go?” Zaynab asked as he walked through the door.

 

“Went worse than I could have imagined,” Kassim answered, the walk back having reignited the thoughts he had about his new “job.” He scowled at the thought of having to do it. Someone else could just as easily. There was no need for  _ him. _

 

“What? What happened? Are they going to do something to us?” The concern and worry on Zaynab’s face nearly broke Kassim’s heart. He couldn’t tell where the old fear of the Saluja family ended and the new fear of the Ren family began. They probably ran together, he figured.

 

“They want me to work with them. Said something about helping the people here adjust to being Kou properly. I don’t really get it, but they didn’t make it seem like I had much of a choice.” Kassim shrugged and put the vegetables down on the table.

 

“They want you to work for them? What kind of stuff are you supposed to do?”

 

“Talking to people. I didn’t stick around long enough to find out.”

 

“When do you start?”

 

“Tomorrow morning,” Kassim said, reaching for a cigar and finding none. He pursed his lips, then sat down at the table and leaned on it.

 

“That soon? Wow! And I bet it pays well–”

 

“I’m not going,” Kassim said, taking a pepper and slicing it with Amon for a tick before he realized. Zaynab stared at him, dumbfounded.

 

“What do you mean you’re not going!?”

 

“I mean I’m not going! I don’t want this job, so I’m not going to take it! Besides, what are they going to do, huh? They can find someone else.”

 

“You always wanted to be King so you could help the people of our nation. You’re being given that chance and you won’t take it? You could make them see that their way isn’t what we want. Kassim,” Zaynab said. She stood back and put her hands on her hips for a moment before handing Kassim another knife and getting to work herself.

 

“Anyway, you’re right. The worst they can do is find you guilty of insubordination or desertion or treason and have you executed.”

 

“They won’t execute me. They’ll probably just keep trying to convince me to come work for them.”

  
“Do you really think so?” Zaynab asked, turning to him. Her eyes were hard. Kassim didn’t even flinch, but he understood where she was coming from.

 

“... No.” They worked in silence, a grim air settling in the house. For awhile, Kassim just let it hang, but he couldn’t stand it after half the basket was gone between them.

 

“I’ll do my best,” he said quietly.

 

“We’re here to help, too, you know. Just because the Fog Troop isn’t together, it doesn’t mean we don’t still share that bond.” They smiled at each other as Zaynab tossed the vegetables into a boiling pot of water.

 

“You had that ready?”

 

“Hassan is really excited for it,” Zaynab said, just as he burst through the door with a fresh chicken.

 

“I’m home! How are things?”

 

“Kassim got a job at the castle working for the princes,” Zaynab said. Kassim just nodded in response.

 

“Wow! What kind of job did you get?”

 

“They want me to help them make things easier for the citizens of Balbadd to become citizens of Kou.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Seriously. I said I’d do it.”

 

“Why!? They should get out of here! That’s why you went up there, right?” Hassan shouted.

 

“Hassan,” Zaynab said sharply.

 

“Sorry.” No unnecessarily loud noises after dark was another rule added. The only places that got off were the taverns.

 

“Yeah, it is. But… one of them said some stuff that made sense. How are we supposed to build this country from the ground up with nothing? It would be really hard to do without anything to go off of.” Kassim bit his lip and slammed a fist onto his leg. “This sucks.”

 

Zaynab took the chicken and sliced it up, cooking it on a pan by the fire before adding it to the pot as Kassim and Hassan argued back and forth in hushed tones behind her, listening to them discuss the logistics of joining versus not joining the Empire.

 

“Boys. We’re already a part of the Empire. We can’t just say we aren’t. Maybe the first thing you should talk about tomorrow is the current opinion of the Empire and why they feel that way.” Both of them stopped when she said that, blinking several times before either of them could even think of a reply.

 

“Uh. Yeah. I’ll do that,” Kassim finally said.

 

“The stew is nearly done,” she added, motioning to the table. It was entirely unset. The three of them worked together to get it ready, then waited and chatted idly about their days beyond Kassim’s trip while they waited for the stew to simmer. Once it had, Zaynab divvied it out between them. They ate together, then washed the dishes before Kassim said goodnight.

 

“Be careful out there, Kassim! You never know!”

 

“Ah, he’ll be fine. He’s got Amon, remember?”

 

“See you two tomorrow, then. What do you want, Hassan?”

 

“A good slab of pork!” Kassim chuckled as Zaynab berated him for being so obsessed with meat and not eating enough greens. He wandered into the darkness, most of the windows as dark as usual, only a few lit. That night, there was a heavy fog. Kassim smiled smally. It would be a great night to cause some chaos.

 

He arrived at Mariam’s grave and sat down with a deep sigh.

  
“Hey, little sister… Lot happened today. I went to the castle like I said I would, and instead of being kicked out or punished for telling them to fuck off, they gave me a job. I didn’t have a real choice in the matter! They told me they needed me to help them mess this place up more, and now I’m just expected to obey!” The fog got a little thicker.

 

“Zaynab says I should do it. Hassan says I shouldn’t. No matter how much I try to understand and figure this out, I just… can’t. I don’t want to help them at all! But every time I try to resist, someone comes along and tells me not to. Should I really just give up? I… I can’t, can I? I’ve been working so hard to make Balbadd a better place–”

 

_ You are, _ he heard her say. Blinking, Kassim turned to her grave. It wasn’t the first time she had commented on something, but to say  _ that _ .

 

“What do you mean?” he asked. There was no answer. Maybe he was just imagining it. Even so, he considered her words.

 

“You say I’m already helping Balbadd, but my actions made things worse. Are you… are you saying that… I can still make things better?” He felt something settle inside him. “Is this the way?” As Kassim asked that, he felt the wind rise and blow across the city. The fog cleared for a moment, showing the path to his house.

  
“Yeah, I guess it’s pretty late, huh? Have a good night, sis.” Kassim headed home. Sure, he would help. He was going to make Balbadd better than it was now, and maybe get it to a good place. But he was going to raise  _ absolute hell _ for the princes along the way. That would teach them.


	3. The Start Of A New Career

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kassim starts raising hell for the princes, and accidentally kind of makes a friend... sort of. He also gets a rude reminder of the past he would rather forget.

Kassim awoke the next morning on his mat on the floor. He blinked slowly, staring out the window at the sun that had barely peeked over the horizon. No one bothered getting up this early except the dock porters, and after the day he had had yesterday, he couldn’t conceive of a reason he would wake up so suddenly—

 

A knock came to the door. Kassim realized that that was what he had heard before. He sat up and yawned, then went to the door and opened it.

 

“Yes?” There was a guard on the other side, one who barely looked like more than a kid. He stood tall, but he started wilting as Kassim stared him down.

 

“I’m here  to collect you and bring you to the castle for work, sir!” the guard said loudly, saluting hard against his helmet.

 

“Not so loud, it’s fuck’o’clock in the morning,” Kassim said, yawning again. “What’s your name?”

 

“Xi Xiren, sir. And sorry about the noise. I’m not really used to this yet…”

 

“Why are you here, anyway?” Kassim asked.

 

“I– Did I mention I’m here to bring you to work…?” Xiren asked, quivering slightly. Kassim sighed and leaned against the doorframe.

 

“I mean why are you here in Balbadd? Aren’t there other places you can guard?”

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t choose to be anywhere else! The princes are here, and this is my first assignment! Imagine, a total rookie getting to do something so important as guard  _ them.” _ Xiren’s eyes were practically glistening as he spoke.

 

“Dream come true, huh?”

 

“It really is!”

 

“Alright, I’ll go and get dressed in my usual attire. Are those robes waiting for me at the castle?”

 

“No, sir, we have them all ready for you! It was a special order, so a small team worked on getting them ready for you. They’re also preparing a full wardrobe for you!” Xiren said happily. Kassim’s jaw dropped. He hadn’t realized that the whole “have the robes ready for you tomorrow” bit wasn’t a joke. Someone came over from a carriage further down the street, bearing white, green, black, and gold cloth.

 

“Your new clothes, sir!” They were pushed into Kassim’s arms, making him blink. He really didn’t want to wear them yet.

 

“I’ll put them on at the castle. Wouldn’t want them getting stained by the dirt, right?”

 

“Don’t worry about that, sir! We have a carriage waiting for you so you don’t have to tire your feet going to the castle.”

 

“That’s alright, I’ll walk. Why are you calling me ‘sir’? Just call me Kassim,” Kassim said.

 

“I’m just a private of the army, sir. Someone who actually works with the princes should be afforded their proper titles.”

 

“Huh,” was all Kassim said in response to that before announcing he was going to get changed and closed the door. Running a hand over his hair, he considered his current options. If he got in that carriage, he wouldn’t have a choice in where he went. If he walked, he could probably shake the guard. Once he did, he could just take the day off from work and dump these robes in the river later. Kassim went to the robe he’d laid out the night before and pulled it on, dressing slowly.

 

The robe slid over his arm, cool, made of now familiar cloth that he still hated. He pulled it over the other arm, almost sensually, pretending for a moment that he was seducing a woman with his muscles like he had a few times before. He tucked the left side under the right side, smirking at what the guard would think of his improper dress, then managed to fumble with the button that held the sides together for a solid five minutes before finally tying the sash over it.

 

“How do I look?” he asked. Xiren looked him up and down, squinted his eyes, then started and pushed Kassim inside.

 

“I’m sorry to manhandle you like this, sir, but I think you might have forgotten that we dress corpses with right over left like you’ve got now and since you’re alive you really should be left over right, seeing as you’re working in the castle it’s really important to look right and for that matter you really ought to be wearing those robes, sir.” He paused to take a breath, fixing Kassim’s robe orientation all the while.

 

“Huh. Thanks. Get out of my house.”

 

“Right! I’ll be waiting outside with the carriage, sir!” Xiren said, saluting so hard in that Kou way that Kassim wouldn’t have been surprised if he had managed to punch himself. Kassim followed him out and started down the street.

 

“Sir, the carriage–”

 

“I’m walking! I can’t do my job representing the people if I ride around like a noble, right? It has to be this way,” Kassim said.

 

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense… I’ll go with you!”

 

“Bad idea. If you come along, people will think something is up and won’t trust me to take care of their problems. You get it?”

 

“I do…” Xiren looked like he was still working through it. Kassim sighed. Clearly, this kid was raised to believe the army was the light of the goddamn world. He went over and hooked an arm over Xiren’s shoulders.

 

“Look. Let me put it this way: the people here don’t really trust the Kou Empire to have their best interests at heart. That means that we have to keep my job on the down-low until they  _ do _ trust the Empire, right?”

 

“Right.”

 

“But in order for them to trust me, they have to think of me as one of them and not one of you. If you’re following me around all over the place, they’re gonna know something’s up immediately,” Kassim said.

 

“Oh. But, why would it be a problem if I followed you? The guards are here to protect the citizens. Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to tag along? They’d be more comfortable.”

 

Wow.

 

“Wrong again. Get in the carriage and tell Prince Koumei I’ll be along,” Kassim said, waving Xiren off.

 

“I’m afraid I can’t leave you, sir. I’m under strict orders to stay with you.”

 

He had to be kidding. Somehow, Kassim got the feeling that Koumei was laughing at him. The sadist had to find this amusing.

 

“Ugh, fine. Come inside for a second.” Kassim dragged Xiren inside and pulled out his last clean robe.

 

“Sir?”

 

“Put this on.” Kassim handed it over and stared as Xiren stared back at him. “Well? If you’re dressed like a guard, no one’s gonna help me. You have to blend in.”

 

“Got it.” Xiren took his armor off, as well as the white robe underneath.

 

“You get white, too?”

 

“Yeah. It’s used for nobles, but the soldiers who fight for the Empire are considered a smaller part of the noble class. If you do well in battle, you get land and servants as a reward! I’m hoping to one day have my own farm. It’s easier if you’re near the princes, but even if it weren’t, just being  _ near _ them–”

 

“– Is the greatest thing ever. Yeah, yeah. Just put the green on already.” Xiren nodded and did so, pulling the robe on and fastening it quickly. He discarded his helmet, folded his clothes, tucked a token into his new robe, then went outside and handed them to the attendant.

 

“Here. Take these back to the barracks for me. My cot is the tenth one down on the left, up top,” he said, then looked back at Kassim, who left his house for the third time that day.

 

They wandered through the streets together. Kassim nodded to random people, saying hi to some others. Most of them nodded or said hi back, others simply ignored him. He understood why. It was all just a daily grind, now, and it wore them down. That was the first problem to fix. He just needed a way to do it. 

 

Reaching the marketplace half an hour later, Kassim wondered if it would even be possible to ask around about the problems that people were having. He figured he could at least start with the haggling for this area. Not being able to partake in the usual practices was bad for business overall. If anyone wanted to go overseas, they had to have their haggling skills up to snuff, right? It would be bad for those skills to get rusty.

 

“Hey, Xiren, it would be bad for the haggling skills of these merchants to become rusty, so they should be allowed to. You know, just in case they get the chance to go overseas and trade for the Kou Empire in other countries.”

 

“Oh, right! That makes sense! Gosh, you’re really smart, sir. It must be why you got chosen to–”

 

“Hey, hey.” Kassim pulled Xiren into a headlock. “Keep the ‘sir’ stuff to a minimum out here. We’re incognito, remember? No formalities.”

 

“Got it. I’ll just call you Kassim, then.”

 

“Yeah, and keep that up no matter where we are, ‘kay?”

 

“Um… okay…” With that settled, the two of them kept walking along. The city woke up around them, people filing off to work where they were supposed to. Kassim passed that place where the sign with the holes in the body was and shivered. He didn’t even know what went on in there. How would he help this person? It was… so foreign. Being in the biggest trading hub of the known world, Kassim was more than used to people from beyond his borders, but whatever that was, it was unique to the Kou Empire.

 

“Oh, there’s an acupressure place here? We should go in sometime, sir — I-I mean, Kassim! And, you know, it would be super helpful to know about everything that goes on in this city, right? You can’t be a good voice of the people if you don’t know what everyone wants, right?” Xiren’s eyes were all glittery again as he spoke.

 

“The hell is acupressure?” Kassim asked. Xiren’s jaw dropped and he gasped loudly. The next thing Kassim knew, he was being shoved into the building, which had just opened for the day.

 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! What is this— argh!”

 

“Hello, and welcome to Yingli Acupressure! Do you have an appointment?” a beautiful lady asked. She seemed nice.

 

“No, we don’t,” Kassim said, hoping that would be the end of it.

 

“Do you take walk-ins?” Xiren asked. He was clearly excited by whatever this was.

 

“Yes, we do! Come inside and we’ll have you fixed up in no time!” Kassim found himself once again pushed along as he was hurried into the next room, where several tables were lined up.

 

“What areas would you like worked on today?” the lady asked. Kassim stared at her blankly.

 

“The shoulders and back today, if you don’t mind,” Xiren answered. He dropped his sleeves and laid down on the table. “Kassim, you too!”

 

Kassim was thinking that he should have been adamant about traveling alone as he copied Xiren’s actions. The lady started digging into Xiren’s skin about the time that another beautiful woman came in and started on Kassim after a quick briefing.

 

Her fingers dug into skin and touched nerves that Kassim had only been aware of when his muscles were tight. She ended up hitting some places that he hadn’t even known existed, but every place she hit released some tension. It would be a miracle for him to walk after this treatment.

 

An hour later, Kassim tottered out of the room with a happy Xiren following along. The muscles in his back were taken care of, the knots he had accrued over years and years of hard work were almost gone, and he had somehow ended up with a follow-up appointment five days hence.

 

Huh.

 

“Y’know, Xiren, maybe Kou has some good stuff, after all.”

 

“Yeah…” This time, Xiren’s trailing voice indicated happiness rather than trepidation. “It really has the best medicines~”

 

The pair kept going up and up along the main street, until they reached a side street that had a sign for construction on it. Apparently, a building had been recently deemed in need of renovations, and now a crew was working on it. Kassim instantly recognized the name of the particular branch that was in charge, as well as the area.

 

“Let’s go this way,” he said, pointing to it.

 

“Okay!” The two of them went toward the construction site, Kassim picking up his pace a little. Sure enough, once they rounded the corner, he saw Zaynab arguing with a group of men. He went over quickly.

 

“I  _ already told you _ , Bendan, the entire building needs to be adjusted because of the difference the roof is going to make! Its shape means that it won’t be flat, and the dark coloring you use with the fact that it’s on top of the house means it’ll absorb more heat! The inside just isn’t going to be as cool! This is as simply as I can explain it. Your roofing doesn’t work here.”

 

“Please, Zaynab, you clearly have no idea what you’re talking about. At least you have windows facing the sea.”

 

“We’ll need them to offset your ridiculous roofing.”

 

“Ridiculous!? How dare you—”

 

“She’s right,” Kassim said, striding in. “Our usual style has cloth that flutters and creates a breeze over the door. Your roofing is just going to attract heat in an already hot climate. The strong wind from the south will help, but only with enough windows. Zaynab knows what she’s doing.”

 

“Who are you!? This is a restricted area!”

 

“My name is Kassim. I work at the castle, and part of my job is making sure things go smoothly in the Empire. That means coming down to places like this to see what the holdup is. Zaynab, you said that this project should have been further along, right?”

 

“Right, and it’s only because we can’t get the design approved that it hasn’t yet.” She glared at Banden. Banden looked haughtily at Kassim. Xiren intervened, sidling up and pulling the token out, whispering to the Kou architect and making his expression change from nasty to surprised, then to a fake smile.

 

“Well, since it seems that our guest from the castle has pointed out that these design…  _ ideas _ … are good, we shall send this plan to the castle for approval. Zaynab, since the ideas are yours, you can present them.” Zaynab glared at him, sensing a trap, and rolled the plans up. She nodded at Kassim with a genuine smile and headed off.

 

“You’re setting her up,” he said to Bendan.

 

“Think whatever you want. Those plans won’t be approved.” Kassim sighed.

 

“We’re already this close to the castle. May as well get this over with,” he muttered, and headed off to his doom.

 

He found Zaynab arguing with the guards, who were asserting that the leader of the project had to bring the plans in. She was telling them she was, but neither of them believed her. Kassim sighed.

 

“What’s going on now?”

 

“They won’t let me in even though these plans are long overdue! They have to go straight to city planning!”

 

“Tough luck! You’re not the leader on that project, so you don’t get to get in!”

 

“She was entrusted with the plans. Apparently the leader of the project trusts her to take care of this,” Kassim said.

 

“And who are you!?” asked the guard.

 

“Kassim. I’m Prince Koumei’s new hire.” Both of them balked. Clearly, they had been warned about him.

 

“Right, of course. Sorry, sir,” the guard said. He turned to Zaynab. “Alright, missy. No funny business. You deliver those plans and get out.”

 

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to offend the mighty Rens or anyone else in the Empire,” Zaynab said with a fake smile. She entered with Kassim and Xiren on her heels and got an escort to the city planning committee.

 

“See you tonight, Zay!”

 

“You too, Kas! I’m doing pork loin tonight!”

 

“Three meats in three days? Now I feel spoiled!”

 

“Only the best for my two best men!” She turned and went inside the castle from the entrance courtyard, and Kassim paused.

 

“I guess now we have to change, huh?”

 

“That’s right! If you come with me, we can get changed in the barracks. I have to get my armor, anyway,” Xiren said. He practically skipped off toward the army barracks, whistling all the while. Kassim chuckled and followed after him, figuring that this would be entertaining, if nothing else. At one point Xiren told a servant to get Kassim’s robes and bring them down.

 

Once they were safely inside the room where Xiren’s cot was (tenth down and up top like he said), Kassim breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“Man, I’ve only been here twice, but I always feel like I’m suffocating,” he muttered.

 

“Like you’re suffocating? … Is that because of the same reason that you wanted me to change out of my uniform?”

 

“Yeah.” Kassim leaned against the wall while Xiren contemplated what he said. The robes appeared, and Kassim finally took a proper look at them as he pulled them on. The white robe was linen, the green robe was silk. That made him blink. He fastened them both on anyway, then stared in horror at the waistskirt provided.

 

It was black, it was  _ long _ , it was frilly and patterned, it clashed with everything he stood for as a proud Balbadd citizen, and the color… He shook his head clear. How ridiculous was it to be so off-put by a color? Plenty of things were black, not just… not just the monster that Alibaba had saved him from becoming.

 

Kassim tied it on. He had to handle this, right? Besides, it wasn’t like he couldn’t.

 

At that moment, he realized that he had left Amon at his house. Of all the times he could have done with some encouragement from Alibaba, this was one where he really felt it. Kassim touched his earrings and took a breath.

 

“Um, sir? I, uh… I’m sorry!” Xiren said, pulling something from his armor. It was Amon. Of all the things he could have had on him, it happened to be the one thing Kassim really wanted.

 

“What are you doing with that?” Kassim asked.

 

“Well, I was also told to make sure you kept this near you, so I grabbed it from the bed. You really keep it all tucked in?”

 

“Yeah, what of it?”

 

“I do the same! I keep my dagger wrapped in a tiny blanket when I sleep at night! Oh, I’m so glad you understand!”

 

“I don’t think we do it for the same reason,” Kassim said. He took Amon and strapped it to his side, then left the barracks.

 

“Where to?”

 

“This way!” Xiren guided Kassim through the castle to a room on the third floor. It seemed… almost familiar. He looked around, but it wasn’t until he stared at the carpet for awhile that he realized he was being taken to the same room as before.

 

Sure enough, Koumei was seated inside, reading a book, waiting for them to appear. A lit candle sat on the table in front of him. It dropped a pin as Kassim entered.

 

“Sorry I’m late. Took a little longer to get here than I planned,” Kassim said coolly.

 

“No apology is necessary. You’re right on time,” Koumei replied, rolling up his book. He stood and blew out the candle, handing it to an armored archer behind him.

 

“Did you accomplish anything while you were out?”

 

“Not really. Just pushed your name at some people who were causing a friend some trouble.” Kassim shrugged without a care. The archer tensed, untensing when Koumei put a hand up at him.

 

“And what was the nature of the issue?”

 

“First, a couple people she was working with didn’t want to listen to her until I stuck up for her and got their respect. Then the guards at the gates stopped her from finishing her job.”

 

“At the castle?”

 

“Yeah. She’s one of the architects in charge of a building project. Guess the whole thing got delayed because she wouldn’t budge on her ideas.”

 

“She slowed the progress on the treasury office?”

 

“Because the people who would be working inside would have overheated and died.”  _ That _ got Koumei to pause. Kassim continued. “This place gets hot. Without proper ventilation and heat reduction, buildings get too hot. We have ways to offset it, and she worked most of them in. Now she’s just taking the plans over.”

 

“I see. Chuu’un, send word that her plans come from experience with this particular region. As long as her plan focuses on maintaining the health of those who will be using the building, it ought to be approved.”

 

“Right away,” Chuu’un said, striding to the door and flagging down a servant. Kassim watched him go and whistled low.

 

“Who’s that guy?”

 

“That is Chuu’un, my household vessel. He obeys my every command,” Koumei said. He stood and sauntered out of the room, motioning for Kassim to follow. Kassim sighed and did so.

 

“As for you, Kassim. I need you to investigate a few different places and the prevailing opinions of the people.”

 

“I can tell you what their opinion is: you guys suck.”

 

“I need the specifics of that opinion,” Koumei deadpanned. “Why they think that, what caused them to have such strife. With that information, we can seek to correct the issue, not only here, but across the Empire.”

 

“You showed up ready to slaughter us and you think we’re going to like you? You destroyed Balbadd. You made us feel like we don’t get to be ourselves.”

 

“We improved your lives. You were starving,” Koumei said.

 

“I’d rather die like myself than live like this!” Kassim shot back. Koumei stopped and turned to him, his gaze sharp.

 

“The ocean isn’t far, if you want to die. Keep in mind that it would break their morale.” Kassim clenched his teeth. Koumei turned back and produced a scroll from his sleeve, handing it to Chuu’un, who then handed it to Kassim.

 

“These are the areas of the city I would like you to focus on. They’re close to each other. I need you to gather information from several citizens. Try to get their honest opinions,” Koumei said. “Dinner is at sundown, when you finish.”

  
“Sorry, can’t attend. I already have a hot date.”

 

“Is that so? Cancel it. You’re to dine here. It’s part of the job,” Koumei said. Kassim grunted disapprovingly.

 

“What about my friends? Am I supposed to just abandon them?” Kassim asked, getting really annoyed.

 

“You can see them any time you like. Be sure to be home in time for dinner.”

 

“Is this really important to you?”

 

“Yes.” Koumei didn’t elaborate, just left the room with a final goodbye, and went down a hallway leading deeper into the castle. Kassim opened his mouth to say something, but had no idea what to say. He finally bit his lip and turned down the hall toward the entrance.

 

If this raggedy stick-thin man of a prince wanted his cooperation, he was going to have to earn it. Kassim looked down at his sleeves and grinned. He sliced them off with Amon.

 

“It’s too hot around here to wear sleeves,” he said, as Xiren looked at him worriedly. He walked out of the castle proudly and looked at the first place on the list, catching a phoenix emblazoned pass as it fell out. He had to go to the nobility’s circles, where a lot of the snobs were still living. Many of the old court had instantly switched sides as soon as the Kou Empire started moving in, assisting in the “renovations.”

 

He grimaced.

 

None of these people would bother talking to him, but he had to do something, he supposed. As he thought about how to go about gaining the trust of the imbeciles, Zaynab came into view. She looked happy.

 

“Zaynab!” Kassim called. Zaynab turned and waved.   
  
“Kassim! Great news! My plan was accepted! Someone came by and said that it had Prince Koumei’s stamp of approval, and all their balking disappeared. I never thought having powerful friends would be so nice. It kind of makes me happy that we don’t have to live in the slums anymore, but I still miss the old life, you know?”

 

“I get what you mean,” Kassim said. He glanced behind him to see if anyone was around, and, seeing the hallway empty for the time being, leaned in. Zaynab did the same automatically.   
  
“Prince Koumei isn’t all good. I suspected as much before, but he told me I have to eat here tonight. I’d rather shove the entire chopstick down my throat.”

 

“If he commanded it, I don’t think you have a choice,” Zaynab said, frowning. “Still, you should be able to talk him out of it.” She leaned back away from him and sighed.

 

“I have to get back to work. Now that the plans are approved, we can finish the building. I’m surprised these guys even  _ let _ an outsider work on their stuff like this. The treasury is really important. Why would they let it get delayed…?” Zaynab pondered that out the door as Kassim bid her goodbye and prepared himself for his own job.

 

Xiren came up behind him. “Sir, are you ready to hit the street? This is so exciting! We’re making a real difference!”

 

“I doubt it.” Kassim pulled a cigar out and lit it, then took a drag and walked out.

 

“What do you mean, sir? Er, Kassim.”

 

“Tell you when we get out there. Also, you should cut your sleeves off, too. You won’t last long here if you suffer from heat exhaustion.”

 

“Heat exhaustion…?” Xiren queried, slowly cutting his sleeves off and looking worried.

 

“Oh, yeah. First you feel dizzy, then you start feeling cold and sick, you don’t want to eat. You start getting cramps and headaches, and then you want to fall over and faint, and then…”

 

“And then…?”

 

“And then…  _ you die _ !” Kassim shouted. Xiren shrieked.

 

“M-M-M-M-Mr. Kassim! I think I’m feeling that dizziness and coldness!”

  
  
  


The two of them wandered around the nobles’ courts, going from house to house. Kassim stared boredly at every single one of them as they opened their doors.

 

“Hello, my name is Kassim, and I’m here to ask if you find your current life satisfactory as part of a survey for the betterment of the lives of the people,” he rambled off, following some script that Koumei had written up. He could totally wreck his current occupation with badly said words, right? Words were really important to these schmucks.

 

“Hmph! I’ll need some sort of proof that you’re really doing a proper survey,” said one. Kassim flashed the pass at him.

 

“Ohh~ that  _ is _ official~ Well, since you’re here, I have been having some problems with water leaking in, and I need a new carpet since the old one has been here for three entire months, already! I haven’t been able to replace anything for so long, including servants with the same tired faces!”

 

“Right…” Kassim said. “Well, we’ll make note of that and get right on starting the problem.” Xiren wrote down the complaints dutifully. Once they turned and walked away, Kassim took his notepad and scratched it all out.

 

“Those aren’t valid complaints.”

 

“What? Why not?”

 

“Because he doesn’t actually need any of that. He’ll be fine.”

 

“But… that’s the point of the Empire. They take care of all our needs so we don’t have to worry.”

 

“Yeah, those aren’t the things I’m looking for. These people don’t have anything they really need to complain about. The people in the lower classes? Those are the guys I’m looking to talk to.”

 

“Really?”   
  


“Yep.” Kassim suffered through several more until they had a good amount of “answers” for his survey, then headed to the next area. Here, there were doctors and other learned people who had passed some sort of difficult test. Whatever lady’s son had been accepted to their university. She could probably live here.

 

She would be perfect to ask, once she got used to living there. For now, Kassim once again suffered through the minor grievances that these people brought up. They were always so concerned with what they thought they lacked, it was obvious they really lacked nothing.

 

Kassim decided that, if he was going to survey anyone, it was going to be  _ his _ people. He got quick answers from the others on the list, going across multiple professions until he got to the weavers, the porters, the shipwrights and barrelmakers, the fishers.

 

“We’ve gone way astray, sir. Kassim,” Xiren said, looking around.

 

“We haven’t gone astray. The lowest classes always suffer the most. To be honest, we should be asking the slaves what’s going on in their lives.” Kassim looked around, knowing one person who worked down this far who would have an idea of what was wrong — and there he was.

 

“Hassan!”

 

“Kassim!” Hassan called.

 

“Hey! No lollygagging!” called a nearby guard. Kassim approached him first.

 

“I’m conducting a survey on behalf of the castle and Prince Koumei,” he said, flashing his pass before the guard could protest. “I need to talk to some of your workers. I’ll be sure to distract them one at a time so you don’t get too far behind schedule.”

 

“Fine,” the guard said. He stood to the side. Kassim nodded and went over to Hassan, explaining the situation to him quickly and leading him off to a corner of the area.

 

“So, you want me to bag on the Empire?”

 

“Yep. And the best part is we can’t even get in trouble because Prince Koumei explicitly said he wants all the specific reasons on why we think the Empire sucks. So, complain away! Give me something so I can get fired from this job and go back to selling cloth.”

 

“I am on it! Alright, so first off, we were happy way back then, and now it feels like we ain’t got nothin’ to be happy about, you know? Life was tough, but we had each other. Now we have to spend all our time working with barely any time off, paying taxes and making sure the Kou dogs — you sure it’s really okay to be saying this with him right there?” Hassan asked, nodding at Xiren.

 

“Totally sure.”

 

“Okay, Boss. We have to spend all our time making sure the Kou dogs don’t get angry at us for any reason, or we’ll be punished and even killed. You know they got Nazeem earlier today? He was plotting some stuff, and they found out. He’s scheduled to be executed tomorrow.”

 

“Seriously!? Glad we didn’t talk about that at dinner. I don’t think I could have eaten — what’s Zaynab cooking tonight?”

 

“Dunno, but it’s gonna be good! Man, we used to talk about more interesting things than food.”

 

“We talked about food a lot, it was just more interesting because we didn’t know anything about the food. Now we have an actual selection and don’t have to ask where it’s coming from or when. Makes it more boring that way,” Kassim said, then tapped Xiren’s notepad. “Write that down.”

 

The two of them complained for awhile longer, then Kassim went and got much the same replies from the other porters, from the weavers and fishers, from the coopers and cobblers. Always talking about not stepping on toes and living day to day, instead of dreaming for the future. He stood after the last one, as the sun was setting, and started heading to Zaynab’s house.

 

“Kassim, where are you going?” Xiren asked.

 

“Home for dinner. I don’t know what it’s going to be, but I’m sure it’ll be delicious.”

 

“You’re supposed to eat at the castle!”

 

“Don’t care. Going home,” Kassim said, waving his hand. “Drop that off for me, will you?”

 

“I-I can’t just do that, sir! You should drop it off yourself!” Xiren cried, running toward him.

 

“He’s right, you know,” said a voice. Kassim recognized it instantly. He narrowed his eyes and looked around to see Kouha smiling at him.

 

“What do you want?”

 

“I want to eat, but I can’t until you get back to the castle, so I’m here to escort you.”

 

“Oh, great,” Kassim muttered, less than pleased at this turn of events. First he had to walk around talking to people for one prince who probably didn’t even care, and now he was going to have to walk around talking to another prince entirely, one who had already gotten into a row with him.

 

“Come on, let’s go,” Kouha said, turning around and walking up toward the castle along the river. His retinue crowded behind Kassim, forcing him sociably to walk just behind Kouha. It rankled.

 

“Why?”

 

“I already told you, didn’t I? Mei-nii-san isn’t letting us eat dinner until you arrive.”

 

“No, I mean why are  _ you _ the one he sent? Can’t he just send some servant?” Kassim asked, knowing he could have at least escaped a servant. This guy… not so much.

 

“If he sent a servant, what would you do?” Kouha asked, though the light in his eyes said he already knew.

 

“I’d weasel my way out of it and go home like I want to.”

 

“The castle is your home now. Wait.” Kouha stopped abruptly, causing Kassim to bump into him as he peered into the water. Kassim looked into the water with him, seeing something glint there. He started as he realized it was metallic, then looked around like a rabbit seeking the wolf to see where they were. Sure enough, it was the same spot. The stairs leading into the water itself had stayed, though the buildings had changed, but Kassim knew this place like no other in the city.

 

This was where he disposed of the knife he used to murder his father.


	4. Father Is For Emotional Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kassim has a nice chat and finds out that the princes are worse than he had originally thought — but maybe Kouha is okay?

“Huh, what is that?” Kouha asked. “Reirei, can you get it for me?”

 

“Of course, Master,” the one called Reirei answered. She raised her hands.

 

“Shallal Falak!” she shouted, and raised the knife from the depths in a sphere of water. Kassim felt his heart pound to see it again. He thought he had gotten over it! Had he become soft for some reason? Amon felt hot at his waist, and when he touched it, he realized that it was burning. Biting his lip, Kassim punched into the water sphere and threw the knife back into the muck.

 

“What did you do that for!?” Kouha shouted.

 

“Some things are better left where they were put,” Kassim answered. He stalked away, intending to go back to his house. They already knew where it was, so it wasn’t like it was a bad thing to go back. He wasn’t compromising anyone’s position.

 

When had he slipped back into the mindset of the Fog Troop leader? Admittedly, it felt pretty good. Kassim shook his head.

 

“Hey. Look at me when I’m talking to you,” Kouha said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Kassim whipped around, grabbing Kouha’s hand on the way, and threw it back at him. Kouha stared as he stalked off, too shocked to say anything.

 

They parted ways, Kassim going to Zaynab and Hassan’s, Kouha back to the castle to report in.

 

Kassim went down the neat rows of houses, pissed as all hell and wishing that this would all be over. He barely remembered whatever the hell his address was, just that it was a long ways away from his friends.

 

“Kassim! Mr. Kassim! Wait!” Xiren cried. Kassim stomped his foot into the ground as he turned on his heel and glared.

 

“What!?”

 

“I- er, well that is… um.”

 

“Spit it out, already. Can’t you see I’m fuming?”

 

“Yes, sir, I can. But I really don’t think you should have acted that way. It was out of line, don’t you think?”

 

“No, I don’t,” Kassim said shortly. He turned again and somehow ended up in front of his house.

 

“Um, Mr. Kassim, if you don’t mind me asking, why  _ did _ you react that way?”

 

“Got a lot of bad memories tied to that knife. Get that report in. I’m not going to the castle tonight.”

 

“... Yes, sir. I’ll be sure to do that. Have a good night, then,” Xiren said, bowing. Kassim barely glanced his way as he ran off. He went inside and shut the door, then sat on the floor next to the bed, rubbing his eyes. Eventually, he took Amon off and tucked the sword in, looking at the hilt. He drew it out, eyes traveling down to the broken edge. The other half was still in the sheath, but without being joined, they had nothing to do. Still, Amon pulsed within this blade. Aladdin had managed to do something so the spirit would stay in, saying something about it not being the end of the djinn’s time as a vessel.

 

“What could you possibly be sticking around for?” Kassim asked, not expecting an answer. He resheathed the sword. It was broken, like his relationship with his father had been until the end, and like his relationship with Alibaba that had caused his lifelong friend to sacrifice himself.

 

Kassim bit his lip, then tucked the blade in, not wanting to look at it. Instead, he wandered around his house, not wanting to go outside again for any reason. He didn’t know how long it was that he was doing that, pacing in circles and turning around for no reason, but he was interrupted by a knock at the door when the sun had long gone down.

 

“What are you doing here?” Kassim asked, seeing Kouha in front of him when he opened the door.

 

“You didn’t show up. We ate without you, but Mei-nii-san is annoyed.” Kassim didn’t say anything, just closed the door. Kouha wedged his sword into the crack before he could.

 

“Go away,” Kassim said, suddenly tired.

 

“No way. Not until you explain what happened earlier. You’re seriously upset that I picked up someone else’s trash? It’s just a knife, isn’t it?”

 

“No, it isn’t,” Kassim said. He sighed, too tired to fight, and let the door fall open, sitting at the table that he never used and idly wiping some dust off. Kouha sat, as well, wrinkling his nose at the state of the place.

 

“Do you ever clean this place?”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Not worth it,” Kassim said, shrugging. Kouha couldn’t help but grimace as he went around and lit a candle, looking for something else.

 

“Do you have any food around here — ah. Wow. Nevermind, that’s getting moldy. What do you even do?”

 

“Nothing here,” Kassim said, wishing the prince would just leave.

 

“No kidding. Anyway, about the knife.”

 

“Drop it.”

 

“Like you did? No one has a reaction like that to something unless there’s something else attached to it. I’m not leaving until you tell me,” Kouha said. Kassim huffed a laugh out his nose.

 

“You wouldn’t understand,” he replied.

 

“I’ve heard sob stories from people across the world. I doubt you’ve got anything surprising.”

 

“Oh, yeah? Does parental love mean anything to you?”

 

“Yeah. My mother and I love each other very much,” Kouha said. He got a feeling in his gut as Kassim looked at him.

 

“I never knew my mother, but I knew my father. He was a useless drunk, a deadbeat, everything wrong with the slums. One day, he disappeared. That’s all anyone knows about him.”

 

“And?”

 

“And I killed him. He wanted to sell my little sister, so I killed him. Then I tossed the knife into the river,” Kassim said nonchalantly. It had been such a long time since he had done it, it no longer held any feeling to say.

 

Kouha’s jaw dropped a little, and his eyes widened. He blinked once, then twice, then pointed to Kassim.

 

“Think I’m a monster?” Kassim asked, turning his head to look at the wall and almost missing the grin that spread across Kouha’s face.

 

“Was it satisfying?” he asked excitedly. Kassim whipped around.

 

“What?”

 

“Was it satisfying to kill your father?” Kouha asked again. There was a definite light of…  _ something _ in his eyes that scared Kassim more than he wanted to admit.

 

“Why do you ask…?”

 

“Because I hate mine, but my older brothers don’t want me to kill him. It’s kind of sad, if you ask me. He’s been asking for it for years, but he  _ is _ the Emperor, so it would be bad form. Besides, the bastard has to die at some point anyway.”

 

“I didn’t want to kill him. It was a push-comes-to-shove-moment,” Kassim said.

 

“Oh.” Kouha shrugged, then became more somber. “Why would he want to do such a thing to his own family?”

 

“Because he was more concerned with being able to drink than being a father. He wanted to use my sister for his own purposes. I hate him,” Kassim hissed. Kouha’s own eyes hardened.

 

“Mine decided that my mother wasn’t fit to stand beside him because of her mind. She acts like a child, and because of that, he cast her aside and shoved her into a corner. I had to go with her. I…” Kouha trailed off, biting back a lump that had formed in his throat.

 

“You what?”

 

“I wanted him to love me,” Kouha whispered. “It’s not going to happen.”   
  


“Yeah. No sense in wanting something you can’t have, right?”   
  


“Right. Still, some nights I cry, because I still want him to recognize me. You know, he smiled at me once, and I still remember the moment. He told me he was proud I had captured Leraje, that it meant I was worth something,” Kouha said. He shook his head. “Worth something because I have my mother’s blood, and that makes me worthless.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Seriously.”

 

“Man, Alibaba was picked up by the King at one point, and I remember thinking he was lucky. He told me one night that his mother had been a maid, and she and the King loved each other. But she wasn’t royalty, so they couldn’t get together. Guess that made her worthless, too. Even his brothers just thought he was slum trash.”

 

“Same with my sister, Kougyoku.” Kouha leaned on the table.

 

“The crazy water girl?”

 

“That’s the one. She’s a strong fighter, but she’s also the daughter of a prostitute. Guess my father couldn’t be assed to find my mom, so he went to the whorehouse and knocked someone else up.”

 

Kassim’s jaw dropped this time. Then he took a businesslike stance.

 

“Well, I already killed one shitty father. What’s another?”

 

“You’d never get close enough,” Kouha said. He stretched and leaned back against his chair. “What about your mother?”

 

“I barely knew her. She died giving birth to my sister,” Kassim said. He had a few memories of her being a nice woman, though, now that he looked back, she had always been too thin and too weak. It was no wonder Mariam’s birth had killed her.

 

“And is your sister out on a hot date?”

 

“She’s dead. Died in the plague that swept through the slums years ago.”

 

“Oh. I’m sorry for your loss. Were you two close?” Kouha asked tentatively. Kassim nodded.

 

“She was everything in the world to me, once Alibaba left. It was only us. Then we lost everyone. Only ones I have left now are Zaynab and Hassan, but they have each other.”

 

Kouha was silent awhile, nodding on occasion. Finally, he spoke. “My brothers are the same for me. They’re close to each other, but they’re also my world.”

 

“You put too much faith in them. Your older brother is insane,” Kassim said. He felt a little more alive, and pulled a cigar out.

 

“You say that like I’m not,” Kouha said, squinting at the cigar.  “How many of those do you smoke?”

 

“As many as it takes to drive away hornets,” Kassim said, then added, “You’re all insane.”

 

“Hornets?” Kouha muttered. “Whatever. Anyway, I’m often called the ‘eccentric prince,’ if you want some sort of official title. Everyone knows I’m the least mentally stable of the three. Why not take pride in it?” He preened a little, crossing a leg, rolling his shoulder and fanning his fingers nonchalantly. Kassim rolled his eyes in response.

 

“Are you done?”

 

“Yeah, I’m done. Now that I know why you reacted like that, I can tell Mei-nii-san what happened.”

 

“Great. Get out.”

 

“That’s awfully rude of you. Maybe I want to sleep here,” Kouha said, shrugging and wandering over to the bed, stopping when he saw Amon nestled on the pillow. “I know some people sleep with their daggers, but this is taking it to a weird level.”

 

“Says the eccentric prince,” Kassim said, getting up, fully intending to throw Kouha out the window. He got one open.

 

“My eccentricity revolves around those I surround myself with. My personal court, so to speak. Isn’t this your metal vessel?”

 

“It’s not mine. This one belongs to Alibaba.” Kassim touched his earrings.

 

“The dead guy?”

 

“My best friend.”

 

“Sorry.” Kouha’s face softened. He went over to the vessel and stroked it softly, whispering something to it. Kassim got closer, ready to snatch Kouha’s collar when he heard what he was saying.

 

“– something in him to stick around, huh? He really is something. Brash, headstrong. I don’t know if he’s really King material. I wonder how long you’re going to stay…”

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Talking to your djinn. I guess he must sense something about you. I’m going to keep an eye on you, Kassim,” Kouha said. Kassim grimaced.

 

“That’s it.” He hugged Kouha around the middle, lifting the smaller man easily, then lifted him and went to the window.

 

“What are you doing!?”

 

“Tossing you out. Bye.” Kassim’s stomach chose that moment to growl. He didn’t pause in his movements.

 

“Did you even eat?” Kouha asked.

 

“Do I have food?” Kassim asked. At that, Kouha grabbed his sword and launched them both out the window, quickly shoved the blade into the ground, muttered “Nui Rento,” and sent them into the sky. Kassim screamed the entire way up, clenching his teeth and muffling himself as he looked down to the ground far below.

 

“Where do you usually go for food?”

 

“My friends’ house.”

 

“They live together?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Awww,” Kouha cooed. “What’s the address?”

 

“Shut up. 5, 31,” Kassim said. Kouha quickly counted out rows and columns, then tilted them toward the house, calculating trajectory and jumping that way, shrank his sword, aimed it at the right house, and enlarged it so it stuck into the ground in front. Then he shrank it again and pulled them both down through the night and to the lit window below.

 

“This is the one, right?” he asked as the door opened.

 

“What in the… Kassim?” Zaynab asked, blinking in surprise. Hassan stood behind her.

 

“Hey, Zaynab.”

 

“Make sure he eats plenty. He hasn’t had any food for awhile,” Kouha said, shoving Kassim over. They caught him and stood him up.

 

“And who are you supposed to be?” Hassan asked.

 

“Name’s Kouha. May I have your name?”

 

“Hassan. This is Zaynab,” Hassan said, not really sure what to make of the shrimp in front of him.

 

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’ll be making sure he eats where he’s supposed to. If he doesn’t make it to the castle tomorrow, should I drop him off here?”

 

“You didn’t go!?” Zaynab asked, barely containing herself.

 

“The utter audacity,” Kouha said sarcastically. “It’s alright. This sort of resistance is common among those who don’t wish to join the fold. Have a nice night~”

 

At that, a carpet came down from the sky, already carrying Junjun, Jinjin, and Reirei. Kouha climbed aboard and gave a quick salute, then disappeared into the sky. The three watched him go. Once they could no longer see the carpet, Zaynab ushered Kassim inside.

 

“I made a little extra today. Pork steaks with steamed vegetables. Like my mother used to make when she could.” She set some in front of Kassim.

 

“He found the knife,” Kassim said, taking a bite.

 

“That musta shook you up.”

 

“Yeah. Bad enough he came back to ask questions.” Shaking his head, Kassim dug into the food, licking his lips to get the grease. “Your cooking is always delicious, Zay.”

  
  
  


At the castle, Kouha fixed his hair as he strode down the hall to see his older brother. After all, he had a report to bring in on the absence of one Kassim. Once he got the errant hairs back into place, he entered the common room that Koumei was currently occupying like a force of nature and stepped around scattered papers and scrolls.

 

“You’re back,” Koumei said.

 

“Yep! And I found out what happened. Turns out his father tried to prostitute his little sister, so he killed him with the knife I saw in the river. The sight of it made his mood go sour.”

 

“I see,” Koumei murmured. It was certainly interesting information.

 

“And you’re already coming up with plan number three of how to twist his arm with it, right?”

 

“Something of the sort.” Koumei could already see using it as leverage to get Kassim to stay in line. After all, if the Empire was unable to fulfill the needs of the people, who knew how long before such things would happen again?

 

“You need to be more organized, Mei-nii-san.”

 

“I’m perfectly organized,” Koumei said. He made a note of Kassim’s past, then set the paper down on a pile of Balbadd’s historical information, in a part that was arranged geographically where the slums were.

 

“Whatever you say. Make sure to go to sleep before En-nii-san sees you at midnight.”

 

“I will.”

 

“And stay asleep this time?”

 

“I make no promises.”

 

Kouha sighed and walked out of the room. Of course Koumei would be burning the midnight oil. It was questionable if he ever slept during the night. With a shrug and a skip, Kouha went off to his own room to take care of himself and go to sleep.

  
  
  


Kassim awoke on the dirt to Xiren knocking on his door. He opened it to find his next assignment in Xiren’s hands and let the man in to change, as had become their habit over the past few weeks.

 

“Already?”

 

“Yep! Prince Koumei said that the only reason you’ll need to come to the castle this morning is to talk with him once you’ve gotten this report done!”

 

“Huh. So what’s the deal today…? ‘Marketplace research. Haggling, stealing, other sources of exploitation of the system.’ Huh.” Kassim considered his options, then grabbed the robes that Xiren had brought along. He stared at the black and patterned waistskirt, the white collar on his shiny green robes, and realized he would stand out with such uniqueness marking him.

 

Xiren was already stripping down to put on the robe Kassim had laid out for himself.

 

“Xiren, I’m going to need your help with this one. Big time.”

 

“Really?” Xiren’s eyes could not get any wider than when they blew open in excitement, but  _ boy _ did he try. Kassim could almost swear he was going to pop from anticipation.

 

“Since I’ll be in these robes, I’m going to use them to take out some ‘exploitation’ and mark it down with plenty of information. I need you to break some rules.”

 

Breaking rules consisted of haggling, since that was the one that garnered the most attention from the guards. Kassim’s idea of exploitation, after all, was that of upperclass people messing things up for those under them — including guards who went too far.

 

Xiren nervously approached a stall selling some fine clothing and asked the man about a few. Then the process began. The man looked around furtively. He offered above the standard price. Xiren, as instructed, offered an amount that put the standard right smack between their bids. They haggled back and forth, Xiren slowly getting louder as a guard came closer. The man started freaking out a little bit, then more and more. 

 

Kassim noted his reactions from where he stood nonchalantly on the other side of the marketplace. He was mostly ignored, thankfully. He didn’t fancy having to explain his robes in the slightest, least of all the lack of sleeves.

 

“Oh, come on! The stitching is totally uneven! You can’t really accept  _ that much _ for them!” Xiren finally said loudly. Kassim immediately looked to the guard, who came to intervene like he was looking for a hunt.

 

“What seems to be the problem here?” he asked.

 

“This man is trying to sell a badly made robe for full price, and he won’t even give me a discount,” Xiren said.

 

“There’s no haggling in the Empire. Take the price or pick a different robe,” the guard said. This was the crucial moment. Xiren pushed his side.

 

“It’s the best made one, and this is the only stall that sells this color! All the other ones are in forest green, and this one has a special jade green that’s perfect for my little sister’s birthday! You should accept half and no more.”

 

“That’s it! Stop your whining or I’ll increase your taxes! We’ll see if you can afford a present then,” the guard said, a vicious smile on his face. Xiren had never been quite so terrified. Thankfully, Kassim was already on his way.

 

“Excuse me, officer. Is there a problem?”

 

“This man is causing trouble and breaking the law,” the guard said.

 

“Right, right. I work with Prince Koumei, so I’ll be able to notify higher authorities of this issue. Rest assured, everything will be taken care of. I just need your name and rank for identification.”

 

“Of course! Hei Qiya, Lieutenant of the Western Subjugation Army.”

 

“Great, thank you,” Kassim said. “Your service is valued. You may go.” He took Xiren around the corner, leaving the guard behind.

 

“Man I hate talking like that! Puts a bad taste in my mouth to have to act like some high and mighty person,” he said, pulling a face and retching. Xiren covered his mouth and muffled a laugh.

 

“You play the part well, Kassim. Did I do well?”

 

“Yeah, you did great. We just need some more like that, and we should have plenty of evidence that the guards around here are acting unfairly to a populace that’s trying to adjust. That stall,” Kassim said, pointing to another stall that had a guard stationed nearby. Xiren nodded and went to work.

 

One after another, the guards levied tax raises, and each one was recorded. Name, quote, and, on occasion, a few nearby witnesses to the occurrences. Kassim couldn’t help a small smile. This was going well. He wanted one more, and then he would go and report this whole thing to Koumei. His own guards being cruel? That’d show him. They were better off without these guys around.

 

“I’ll give you five huan and no more,” Xiren said, on their last target. The man in the stall tried to shush him, to no avail. The guard came over at the commotion like the last ten, but then…

 

“Hey, I know you! Xiren, what are you doing, breaking the law when you’re supposed to be a guard of the Empire!? Have you really gone bad so fast?” the guard demanded. Xiren paled. Kassim stepped forward to intervene.

 

“Sir, may I talk to you? Over there?”

 

“Not yet, I have business here,” the guard said. Kassim sighed and pulled out his badge, flashing it and tucking it away again.

 

“Over there. Please.” With no way to deny Kassim’s authority, the guard complied.

 

“I’m glad you’re able to do your job well, but we were conducting a survey on marketplace social politics. Xiren is helping me figure out who’s straightedge and who needs some adjustment.”

 

“O-oh. Is that so? Why was I not informed?”

 

“If you knew, you wouldn’t act normal, and that would’ve tipped everyone off and made them falsely amiable.” How did Kassim know these words? He had heard them at some point, probably as a child. Maybe Koumei was rubbing off on him already.

 

“I see. My apologies for getting in the way. Is there anything I can do to assist?”

 

“I just need your name and rank so we can identify you later.” A small thrill of fear flitted across the man’s eyes. Kassim noted it.

 

“Zhu Zhangai, sir.”

 

“Got it. Thanks, man.” Kassim patted him on the shoulder, then went to collect Xiren and started for the castle. They hopped into a carriage that had been waiting for them for ages. The driver was sweet-talking a merchant woman.

 

“She’s married, and her husband’s a brute!”

 

“You say that to my face, Kas!” shouted Sa’iq. He had been a part of the Fog Troop, and was now a merchant.

 

“You’re a brute, Sa’iq!” Kassim called, hopping into the carriage, Xiren on his tail.

 

“You get some fancy castle job?”

 

“Yeah, you want it? Take it!” The driver got into place and started the horses off, leaving the couple behind. Kassim chuckled as they disappeared behind the crowds of people.

 

“Are they friends of yours, Mr. Kassim?” Xiren asked.

 

“Yeah. We used to run together back in the day, before the Empire showed up. It feels like a long time ago,” Kassim mused, looking out the window of the carriage. Xiren nodded, apparently ruminating on what Kassim said.

 

“Don’t break your head,” the ex-troop member said, his own head filling with memories. All those nights when they carefully planned their break-ins, all the time spent learning the insides of the houses they were robbing, all the loot they stowed and handed out.

 

“Weren’t you a thief? He was, too, right?”

 

“Yeah. For some reason, the Empire didn’t punish us. I guess they just didn’t feel like it or something. Maybe they thought Alibaba was the leader. Either way, I’m still around and ready to fight. I just need the opportunity.”

 

“You’ve got an awful good one here, right? You get to talk to the ones in charge. There’s no better way to change the law than through politics,” Xiren said.

 

“Yeah,” Kassim said. He had always felt it was an untrue sentiment. “But how is the law supposed to change if you don’t have a voice?”

 

“You  _ have _ a voice, though.”

 

“I didn’t before. None of us did. We were all ignored because we weren’t the King’s personal court.”

 

“Then you got violent because they weren’t listening?”

 

“Exactly. We thought it was the only way.” Xiren fell silent after that, thinking hard until they got to the castle. Once they left the carriage, he spoke.

 

“Mr. Kassim, I think… I think, if I had been here and seen what you were doing, knowing the little that I know, that I would have joined you.”

 

“What, really? You would have given up a career with the Empire for a ragtag bunch of ne’er-do-well slumdogs?”

 

“W-well… maybe, if I had met you. You, uh, really know what you’re about.”

 

“Damn straight. And I know what I’m about now.” Kassim walked into the castle proper, going past all the soldiers training and servants of two colors, moving directly for the room where he had met Koumei before.

 

“Guess who has a complete survey?” Kassim called as he walked into the room. No one was there. “Where the hell is he today?”

 

“Prince Koumei is currently involved in a war meeting. He has other duties, you know,” admonished an elderly servant.

 

“Sorry, Baba. Didn’t mean to insult,” Kassim said sheepishly, rubbing his head as the woman replaced some old flowers with fresh ones and wheeled a cart full of them out the door.

 

“He’s this way, but you’ll have to wait. It may be awhile,” she said, pointing down another hall. “Just ask for the war room.”

 

Thanking her on his way, Kassim walked down the hallway to the war room. He had to ask directions several times on the way, turning this way and that just to find the place, but, when he finally did, he was denied entry.

 

“You can’t go in.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Meeting’s in session.”

 

“So?”

 

“So, they’re busy. Wait until it’s over.” Kassim crossed his arms, but he didn’t have to wait long. Before ten minutes had passed, a commotion started up inside, the sound of general chatter. The doors opened, and out came three men, all with flaming red hair. The short one Kassim instantly recognized as Kouha. On his left was Koumei, and both were standing behind the third, Kouen.

 

Even after a conversation with the man, he still intimidated Kassim just enough to make him wary.

 

“You’re here,” Koumei said, parting from his brothers a bit. The other two stopped for a moment. Kassim held out the report.

 

“Figured I should bring this by after my  _ reprehensible _ behavior yesterday. It might be a little too biased, though, so you should find someone else for this position.”

 

“It is because you are biased against the Empire that we value your work. Not many in this region have the spine to outright oppose us on our own turf. Where are your sleeves?”

 

“Ripped ‘em off. They would make me bake in the sun if I had to wear them all day. I could get away with it with my stall, but now, well,” Kassim said with a shrug.

 

“He looks better this way, anyway,” Kouha said, winking when Kassim looked his way.

 

“You break into my house and now you’re flirting with me?” Kassim asked, as Koumei flipped through the pages of the report, nodding at the information. Kouen looked over his shoulder at it.

 

“You let me in!”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“And then you threatened to throw me out the window.”

 

“You threw us  _ both _ out the window. It was cold when I got back inside, by the way. You’re lucky I didn’t catch a cold.”

 

“This report is interesting,” Koumei said. “I’ll be sure to have these guards disciplined and send a message out that such behavior is intolerable.”

 

“What, seriously? And here I would have thought that their bullying was by design.”

 

“Certainly not.” Koumei waved the report in the air. “This is the sort of information we’re missing, though I would advise you to leave any and all information recorded untouched and sorted through by those keeping the records. It does little good to have to squint through lines to see what was written.”

 

Koumei headed off, presumably to another part of his busy life, Kouha tailing him and pawing at his hair. Kouen stayed behind.

 

“I want to talk to you,” he said.


	5. Go Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kassim has to face Kouen, and with him, everything that led him to this point. Then, he has to babysit Princess Kougyoku, an easy task made awesome.

Kassim blinked. “Me?”

 

“Yes, you. I want to discuss that djinn of yours and what happened with the one you call Alibaba,” said Kouen.

 

“I don’t want to,” Kassim said.

 

“Unfortunate,” Kouen said. He bent down in front of Kassim and rammed his shoulder into his hips, hoisting Kassim onto his shoulder in a split second.

 

“Whaaa! Stop picking me up like this!” Kassim shouted, wriggling to get free. It was no use. Kouen wanted him there, he wasn’t going to move.

 

The two of them moved to another part of the castle, where a small alcove sat. Within the alcove was a large portrait of three men and several sticks of incense, as well as food and money.’

 

“Wow. Nice to see our tax huan going to good use,” Kassim said, staring at the money once he was on the ground.

 

“Don’t insult them. These three founded the Empire before I obtained my own djinn. They are the reason I fight, and the reason I entered the dungeons in the first place. Do you know why Alibaba entered the dungeon?”

 

Kassim looked at the portrait, taking in the men one at a time. On one side was a young man with wild black hair and a wide smile, bearing a mole next to his mouth. On the other was a more serious man with smoother black, also with that same mole. In the center, above the other two, was an older man, his face schooled to neutrality, black hair perfectly combed and maintained, a fancy hat on his head, and no mole by his cheek.

 

“He entered the dungeon to save this country,” Kassim said. “Who are these people?”

 

“They are my uncle and cousins. The late Emperor Hakutoku, First Imperial Prince Hakuyuu, and Second Imperial Prince Hakuren. I also went into a dungeon to obtain the power necessary to help them. Tell me more about Alibaba.”

 

“Why do you want to know about him?”

 

“Because he had a djinn that has chosen to stay with you. I want to know why.”

 

“I don’t have the answers,” Kassim said, annoyed. “These guys are cool and all, but I don’t care about them, or your dream or whatever. See you.” He turned on his heel and left the area, shrugging Kouen’s hand off when he reached out to stop him.

 

Leaving the castle behind, Kassim decided to just go home. It wasn’t night, and he prayed it soon would be, but for now, he decided to take a nap, or shop, or something, to pass the time until he could talk to Mariam.

  
  
  


His house was no longer infested with rotting food, and he even went and got something to eat for himself. As night fell, he made his way to Zaynab and Hassan’s house, just in time to hear them arguing as explosively as they always did. He chuckled at the familiar sound, then knocked on the door just before Hassan was about to unleash a torrent of insults.

 

He was the one to answer, seeing Kassim before him, and broke into a grin.

 

“Well, look who the cat dragged in. Zaynab! Kassim made it for dinner!”

 

“Not needed at the castle?” Zaynab asked as Hassan stepped aside.

 

“Nah, they let me go early today,” Kassim said, walking in. He sat at the table and started peeling some oranges, put the slices into a bowl, and then set the table while Hassan and Zaynab prepared dinner.

 

They ate together, sharing their days. Kassim told them all about his work that day, how he had enjoyed it, and then how he got jumped for a conversation about Alibaba.

 

“And then I left,” he said, once he had explained what happened.

 

“You left? Just like that?” Hassan asked.

 

“‘Let go early,’ huh?” Zaynab muttered. She shook her head.

 

“Well, not exactly let go. I didn’t want to face that conversation, is all. Not out of the blue like that,” Kassim said. Zaynab sighed and smiled.

 

“I understand. It was only a few months ago. It takes time to heal from those scars, especially since you two had finally gotten so close.”

 

“Yeah. He better not throw me over his shoulder again,” Kassim said, taking a sip of tea.

 

When dinner was over, he helped to clean up, then said his goodbyes and went out the door. Finally, he could speak to Mariam. Everyone would be asleep at this point, or else going that way. He went more quickly than usual to her grave.

 

“Mariam, my life has become insane. I could handle being a thief, since I was used to it, but this? It’s wrong. It’s wrong for me, and I feel like some sort of traitor. I don’t even know who I’m betraying. Maybe… it’s me?” Kassim shook his head and touched the ground with it. “What am I supposed to do?”

 

A presence entered the space next to him, and a bouquet of flowers was set down on her grave. Kassim looked up to see who it was. Kouen knelt next to him, pressing his hands together.

 

“What are you doing here? Get out!”

 

“You left in the middle of our conversation.”

 

“So why didn’t you show up earlier, huh?”

 

“I couldn’t move until night fell. It would draw too much attention. Who is this?” Kouen asked. Kassim looked to the grave, barely more than a rock with the name carved into it.

 

“Mariam. My little sister.”

 

“How did she die?” Kouen asked. Kassim was about to spit, but there was something in Kouen’s eyes that bespoke of a great sadness. He withheld his vituperance.

 

“A sickness hit the slums and killed most of us. She was one of them.”

 

“I’m sorry for your loss. I suppose you weren’t able to afford medicine for her.”

 

“No, we weren’t. We could barely make enough to squeeze by. There was no money for medicine. Besides, even if we wanted to get some, the slums were quarantined. We weren’t allowed to leave. They even burned the place to the ground to save the rest of the citizens,” Kassim said, his lip and hand curling.

 

“... I see. And it was the decision of the King to do this?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Do you doubt us, as you doubted him?”

 

“No shit I do. Nobility are all the same. You only care about yourselves. The lives of those beneath you are far too unimportant to consider. Don’t you think so? You kill people all the time. They must not matter much, right?” Kassim asked. Kouen’s face hardened as his eyes softened.

 

“I kill them, and I grieve for them. When we hold funerals for the lives lost, I attend them. When the families cry, I cry with them. It is difficult, but it reminds me that I fight for a world where their loved ones will not have to.”

 

Kassim took in his words, but they made no sense. How could someone so filled with rage and love for war, so ready to fight everyone in the world say something so…  _ emotional _ !?

 

“The hell are you talking about?” he asked, not really listening. He didn’t want to. Even so… he felt a small presence, the same size as Mariam had been, right at his side and urging him to listen.

 

“War is hell. Many people die, most of whom are completely innocent. We minimize the casualties as much as possible, but the bodies of the dead still haunt me. I have to maintain my focus on accomplishing my dream. This dream…” Kouen took a deep breath. “It has been with me for more than ten years, since I began fighting with them.”

 

“‘Them’ being your cousins?” Kassim asked, really hoping Mariam knew what she was about.

 

“Yes. I loved and respected the three of them. There was a day when we were fighting in which I doubted the path we were on. They told me they knew of no other way. That is why I walk this path.”

 

“And you say you care so much for the citizens, but you still go around and make their lives miserable somehow.”

 

“We do what we can on the administrative side. The best one to talk to about that is–”

 

“Your brother.” Kassim stared at the stone for awhile, feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath.

 

“Why?” he finally asked.

 

“Why what?”

 

“Why did you want me to help you find the problems in your little society?”

 

“Because we often can’t see them. We thought you might be able to. We also thought that you would have the ability to convince the people that we are not the monsters we seem to be.”

 

“I don’t know. Kouha likes to poke around a little too much,” Kassim said jokingly. “He’s kind of weird.”

 

“Yes, he is. He’s had a penchant for blood since he was a young child.”

 

“Yeah? Tell him he can come to my house and complain about bad fathers anytime. It was… refreshing.” Kassim stood up and brushed the dust off, then turned around.

 

“Heading to your house?”

 

“Yeah. Why?”

 

“We have a room prepared for you in the castle,” Kouen said, gesturing to it. Kassim looked at him, and through the fog toward the castle, then shook his head.

 

“I can barely stand having a mat to sleep on. I’d rather stay here.”

 

“Yes, Kouha mentioned that you keep the sword tucked in. You should get that vessel moved to a new home. The broken knife isn’t doing it any good.”

 

“It’s not mine. I don’t know why Amon is sticking around, but that’s how it’s going down for now. I don’t really care to ‘move him’ or whatever. Besides, I don’t need it,” Kassim said nonchalantly, walking into the fog. He made his way safely home, patting Amon quietly.]

 

“You know, Alibaba, I think I get these guys now. I’m almost sorry you didn’t get to meet them. I’m sure they would like you more than they like me,” Kassim said, taking his robes off and curling up under his blanket.

  
  
  


The next morning, Kassim was up before Xiren knocked on his door. By the time the knock came, he was ready to go, robes on and Amon strapped to him.

 

“Mr. Kassim, you’re already ready?”

 

“Yeah. I think I’m getting the hang of this job, now. What are we doing today?”

 

“Apparently it’s a special mission. Your job is… to entertain the princess while her brothers work.”

 

“What!? You mean that stuck-up girl who killed Aladdin’s friend?”

 

“Uh, yes?” Xiren said. Kassim groaned loudly and got into the carriage, already fuming over his bad luck. Xiren climbed in after him, and they set off. All the while, Kassim grumbled about what he was supposed to do, and how exactly was he supposed to ‘entertain’ her, anyway?

 

He found out pretty soon after, as he entered the courtyard of the castle to see Koumei standing there with the lady in question. She was a little shorter than him, though not by much, with red hair that stood in two tall loops before going down her back in twin tails and eyes to match with long lashes. Unusually, she had a pale yellow robe covered by a pink shawl and green waistskirt. Kassim looked at her with confusion.

 

“So I’m entertaining a princess today?”

 

“Yes, you are. We have some things to discuss, and thought it would be best for her to spend some time outside of the castle. Naturally, I’d like you to escort her,” Koumei said.

 

“Naturally,” Kassim muttered. He went over to her, trying to keep a pleasant look on his face, even if hers looked sour.

 

“My name is Kassim. I’m helping your brothers stave off corruption.”

 

“A pleasure to meet you. My name is Ren Kougyoku, Eighth Princess of the Kou Empire,” the woman said.

 

“Nice to meet you, Princess. If I had thought of it, I would have brought something for you to change into.”

 

“What?” Kougyoku asked, blinking.

 

“Yeah. If we’re going out to town, you’ll stand out dressed the way you are. You gotta change, or we’re going to have some serious trouble hanging out in town,” Kassim said.

 

“Right… I would prefer not to wear common garb.”

 

“Your idea is utterly absurd! There is no way I can allow the princess to do something so ridiculous!” said someone behind her loudly. It was a man with black hair, yellow clothing, and purple marks across his cheeks that made him look like he was wearing glasses.

 

“And who are you?”

 

“I am Ka Koubun, the princess’s attendant!”

 

“Really? And what exactly is it that you do? Keep her from going outside?” Kassim asked. Koumei bowed to them all.

 

“I need to get to work. Have a good day, dear sister,” he said, smiling. She lit up as he did.

 

“Have a good day, big brother, and don’t exhaust yourself too much!” Kougyoku waved him off, then turned back to Kassim.

 

“You two are awfully close,” he said, cutting off some angry shouting from Ka Koubun. Kougyoku smiled, but it became fake almost instantly,

 

“Yes, we siblings are all quite close to one another. So, what are we going to do in town?” Kougyoku asked.

 

“First, you really need to wear something else. No one out there is wearing pink. All the guards and officials are going to be fawning all over you, and we won’t get to do anything. Come on, let’s take the carriage to my friend’s house and borrow one of her robes,” Kassim said. Kougyoku balked, looked angry, then schooled her face into a less openly dour expression.

 

“Fine. If you insist.” Xiren opened the door to the carriage, motioning for them to climb in. Kassim swept a hand out for Kougyoku to go first, and go first she did, closely followed by Koubun. Once they were in, Kassim entered, and Xiren brought up the rear.

 

“So, what will we be doing once I’ve changed into something more common?” Kougyoku asked, trying and failing to hide the excitement in her eyes. Clearly, this girl did not get out much.

  
“We’re going to a bunch of different places. I think you’ll like seeing the ocean. Besides, I think it’s really important for someone of your stature to talk to people. Since your brothers are busy, you can do this, right?”

 

“Of course. Do you think I’m useless?”

 

“Hardly. From what I’ve heard and seen, Princess, you’re a lean mean fighting machine. ‘Course, I did hear from a couple of the old guards that you weren’t so great at the whole political thing Alibaba tried to stir up,” Kassim said, a small grin on his face.

 

“He was making no sense. That wasn’t  _ my _ fault.” Kougyoku pouted, nose in the air, and crossed her arms.”Thank you for complimenting my swordsmanship skills. I have to go back home soon, as it’s good form for one of the royal siblings to be present when a visiting dignitary comes to the castle. This is my last chance to see the world, I suppose.”

 

“I doubt that. You seem like the kind of person who’s going to do something crazy and get out anyway.” Kassim leaned an elbow on the side of the carriage and looked out the window.

 

“Crazy!? What would make you think such a thing!?”

 

“Dunno. Maybe the fact that you seem pretty ready to defend yourself any time someone pokes you,” Kassim said, looking at her from the corner of his eye. Kougyoku bristled.

 

“Relax, Princess. I admire it. Most of the women around here are timid and stay in their lane. You’ve got a real temper on you. I think you and Zaynab would get along pretty well.”

 

“Oh. Thank you,” Kougyoku said. She raised a sleeve delicately to hide her face. “Who is Zaynab?”

 

“She’s the friend we’re going to visit. Well, not visit so much as rob.”

 

“Rob!?”

 

“It’ll be fine. I’ll tell her later.”

 

“What?”

 

“How dare you involve the princess in such a scheme!” Ka Koubun shouted.

 

“We’re stealing a robe for her to wear,” Kassim deadpanned. The two of them stared at him, more than a little confused.

 

“I-is that so…?” Kougyoku asked.

 

“Yep.”

 

“We’re almost there,” Xiren said. The carriage stopped soon after, and they climbed out in front of Zaynab’s house. Kassim knocked to make sure no one was home, then jiggled the handle to see if it was locked. It was. He went to the window, which had shutters that opened on either side of it, and slid Amon into the small gap between them, undoing the latch on the inside. Then he opened the window and climbed inside, holding his hand out to Kougyoku.

 

“Wanna come see how the poor live?”

 

“‘Poor’? You have plenty of food and clothing, you’re not poor.”

 

“Maybe, but I can’t afford an acupuncturist any time of year. Gotta save up for that kind of luxury,” Kassim said.

 

“Oh,” Kougyoku said. She took his hand and climbed into the window.

 

“Princess!” Ka Koubun said, concerned.

 

“Mr. Kassim, should you really be doing this?”

 

“Yep,” Kassim said.

 

“I’ll be fine, Ka Koubun,” Kougyoku said. “It’s just a house.”

 

“Please, be careful,” the two chorused. Kassim walked into the house as Kougyoku climbed down herself.

 

“You didn’t help me down!” she pouted.

 

“You didn’t need help,” Kassim answered. Kougyoku blinked.

 

“You really are odd, you know that?” she said, looking around at the simple area, amazed at the sight of herbs drying on the ceiling.

 

“Is that so? What makes you think that?” he asked, searching around for Zaynab’s things. Kougyoku was silent for awhile, then looked out the window to see Xiren and Koubun crowded in the frame.

 

“You’re impetuous,” she said.

 

“Also true. Why, though?”

 

“I’ll– tell you later.” Kassim looked over and saw the other two out of the corner of his eye, then nodded. He opened a drawer and found robes.

 

“Aha!” He pulled one out and found it to be larger than him. “Nope.” He dug into the next drawer and pulled out a robe that was a little smaller than him. “There we go. Here.”

 

Kassim tossed the robe to Kougyoku, who caught it and looked at the fabric.

 

“I need privacy.”

 

“Right.” Kassim vaulted out the window, flying over Xiren and Koubun and landing on the ground in a heap. Ka Koubun closed the window as Xiren went to check on Kassim.

 

“Kassim! Can you come to the door?” Kougyoku called soon after.

 

“Sure. What do you need?” Kassim asked, going to the door as asked. He pressed an ear to it, having to wave the other two off.

 

“The reason I think you’re odd is because you don’t treat me like I’m delicate. You really just let me do things on my own without being concerned for me. Thank you,” she said quietly.

 

“Uh. No problem. It’s whatever, you know?” he replied. What the hell was her life?

 

She finished changing a few minutes later, opening the window, fully dressed in green with her robes held in her arms. Xiren took them and put them in the carriage.

 

“Not a bad color on you, Kougyoku,” Kassim said. Kougyoku twirled.

 

“What’s next?”

 

“Next is hitting the town! We’re going to the docks first. Then we can head up the main road with the market. That’s the big selling point of this town. All the shops, you know?”

 

“Okay, let’s go!”

 

“Xiren, can you escort Ka Koubun around? Stay close, but don’t act like you’re with us,” Kassim said.

 

“Understood!” With that, Kassim took Kougyoku along toward the water. He held onto his sash as they walked along the port. Kougyoku looked around excitedly.

 

“I hardly ever get to see things like this. Everyone looks so busy!”

 

“Yeah, they are. The Kou Empire ships things here frequently, and send things out just as fast. They have a lot of trading partners, after all.”

 

“Yes, we do. They’re expecting our goods all the time! We can hardly keep up sometimes.”

 

“It must be hard,” Kassim said. He kept going, meandering along so Kougyoku could get a good look around. She was so excited, bouncing around from one place to the next.

 

“I visited the streets for a short time when I was waiting for the marriage to commence. I met a fortune teller who showed me the face of my fiance. I’m really glad it didn’t happen,” Kougyoku said, smiling. Kassim smiled back. She really was awfully bright. He could see her being a good queen — the hell was that thought!?

 

He shook his head and noticed her hairpin, her  _ very intricate and very obviously expensive beyond common wages hairpin _ .

 

“Sorry,” he said, snatching it off her and taking the headpiece with it. He tucked them into his robe hurriedly.

 

“What do you think you’re doing!?” she shrieked.

 

“It’s conspicuous to have such an expensive hair piece. I’m going to keep it safe.” Kassim took his own hair tie out and shook his head, letting his dreadlocs fall. He gathered Kougyoku’s hair together, ignoring her protests as he tied her hair simply, letting it stay in a ponytail, rather than the double-loop that he couldn’t even hope to replicate.

 

“There. Now you really look normal.”

 

“Thank you. May I have my hairpiece back? It’s not a normal item.”

 

“That so?” Kassim pulled it out, looking at the intricate pattern and inspecting it from every angle. “I could probably fence this for a pretty penny in the right market.”

 

“Don’t you dare! That is my metal vessel!” Kougyoku screeched, reaching out and grabbing rather viciously. Kassim let her have it before his wrist got torn to shreds.

 

“You have a metal vessel? Oh, that’s the power that you used to kill the big blue guy.”

 

“That’s right.” Kougyoku said, tucking the pin into her robes. Kassim looked around rather furtively, knowing they just caused a bit of a commotion in the streets. A couple guards were watching them.

 

“Sorry again. We need to move.” He put his hand on her back and pushed her along, turning onto the next street and making his way to the markets.

 

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

 

“I don’t want the guards’ attention. If they notice us, they’ll ask questions. I don’t want to have to explain this whole situation.”

 

“I see,” Kouyoku said. She kept walking, occasionally swinging her head back and forth and letting her ponytail flutter around behind her.

 

“Um, you can stop touching me, now,” she said after a while, when Kassim hadn’t taken his hand off her.

 

“Right.” Kassim took his hand back hurriedly, going back to his sash as they reached the markets. At that point, he rather wished he had at least taken her hand, as Kougyoku ran around to look at  _ everything _ , not staying in one place for long as she took in every single item at every single stall. Kassim followed her as quickly as he could, constantly running around after her.  _ How does that guy with the face tats manage this?  _ He wondered. Finally, he gave up and let her run from one side to the other as she wished and stayed in the middle. From here, he could see her face lit up and happy.

 

She looked pre–  _ absolutely not. _ He shook his head vigorously.

 

“Everything is so similar and so different from what I saw before! This place is amazing! I almost wish I was born here,” Kougyoku said. “It would be so much fun to live here, right?”

 

“Depends on some things, like your class and what’s expected of you. For me, I was a slum rat and expected to die. Alibaba was a prince and expected to lead the whole country. Everyone has a different role they’re told to fulfill.”

 

“I might have still been born a princess. I think I would want to be a lower class, if I had the chance. I want to earn my place because I want to, not because I feel like I have to.”

 

“Earn it?” Kassim raised an eyebrow.

 

“Yes. You see, even though I’m a princess, I’m one of low birth. I have no social standing, just my swordsmanship.”

 

“Seriously? Why? Isn’t your father the Emperor?”

 

“And my mother was a prostitute. She died, and I was brought to the castle, where I spent my time in isolation. I barely understood what had happened, but then Ka Koubun came along and helped me out. He taught me what it meant to be an imperial princess and inspired me to become a great person.” Her eyes shone as she spoke. Kassim couldn’t help but feel a little envious.

 

“I had someone inspiring like that. I ended up becoming a bad person, instead of a good one. Finally learned my lesson,” he said. Alibaba hovered at the back of his mind, and he touched a hand to his earrings.

 

“You’re not a bad person, now. I can tell that much,” Kougyoku said, smiling. She looked around, but stayed closer to Kassim.

 

“So… you have to prove yourself because you don’t have a perfect birth like the others?”

 

“That’s right. It’s been hard, and I’ve always felt like I couldn’t talk to my siblings.” Kougyoku’s head drooped.

 

“That’s dumb. Just because you’re some street rat doesn’t mean you can’t be queen. Birth doesn’t matter, right?”

 

“It totally matters! How can we know who’s worthy of ruling a country otherwise?”

 

“I dunno, by actually paying attention? Sinbad was born a commoner and became a king, but Ahbmad was a bad King who brought Balbadd to its knees.”

 

“You have a point…”

 

“Just so happens that royals are trained to be good Kings. Doesn’t mean they will be.”

 

“Do you… do you think I could be a good ruler?”

 

“Well, sure. That metal vessel is proof that you have the power, right?”

 

“Yeah, but lots of people have them. I don’t know that it actually means anything, really.”

 

“‘Course it does. Why would you doubt a great and powerful djinn? If it chose you, then you’ll be a good ruler.”

 

“If you say so…”

 

“No, no, no. If  _ you _ say so. You’re the queen here. You have to assert that and make it known!”

 

“I’m a good ruler..” Kougyoku said, a little uncertain.

 

“Right. We should continue this back at the castle.”

 

“Of course. My brothers said they would be done by noon,” Kougyoku said, looking up at the sun. It was about ten in the morning. Kassim looked around for something else to do. It was too early in the day for drinking, and he doubted she could handle it. Most of the entertainment places had shut down with the regime change, and none of the bars were going to be open before three.

 

“There’s not really anything to do right now…” Kassim said, still looking around. Kougyoku looked around as well, then gasped and pointed at something down the way.

 

“Look over there! Let’s check it out!” The two of them went to see what was going on. A large crowd had formed around a trio of performers. One of them was dancing as the other two played a drum and a flute. Kassim smiled. It seemed that the Empire’s arrival hadn’t deterred this small group — for long. He saw a guard coming over with a rather angry look on his face.

 

“Incoming,” Kassim murmured. Kougyoku looked to where he was looking and raised an eyebrow.

 

“Why does he look so angry?” she asked.

 

“He’s angry because these three are causing a disturbance in his perfect little street. He’s going to get rid of them.”

 

“Bets on them getting deported,” said someone nearby.

 

“Put my money on arrested,” muttered another as the guard shoved his way to the front. 

 

“What do you think you’re doing!?” he demanded. The music stopped as the dancer did, and everyone became still.

 

“We’re just performing, sir,” said the dancer, cocking her head and affecting as innocent a look as she could manage. Kassim recognized her technique, but it was no use. Nothing would soften this guy or get him to budge.

 

“Perform!? You’re causing a ruckus and disturbing the peace! Get out of here before I have to take drastic measures!”

 

“Execution,” someone whispered behind Kassim. He turned briefly, his eyes off Kougyoku just enough to miss her bristling with indignation, and was consequently surprised with everyone else when she stepped between the guard and the dancer.

 

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Kougyoku asked, her face grim. Kassim thought that Kouen was scary, but in comparison to the rage he could feel boiling beneath Kougyoku’s skin, the fact that Kouen wore his openly made her the more terrifying one. Who knew how badly she would blow when she did?

 

He saw Xiren and Ka Koubun enter the crowd and motioned for them to stay quiet. The only one who could save these three was someone who outranked the guard — and that was the Eighth Princess.

 

“Get out of my way,  _ brat _ ,” the guard said angrily. He moved a hand to strike. Kougyoku caught it and stared him down.

 

“Allow me to ask you again, as Ren Kougyoku, Eighth Princess of the Kou Empire. What exactly are you trying to do to these citizens?”   
  


“I- well. How do I know you’re really the princess? You look like some common pauper,” the guard said.

 

“Princess, be careful,” Ka Koubun said. He had the  _ look _ of someone who was concerned. Kassim nodded in understanding.

 

“Eighth Princess Kougyoku, we stand by your decision,” Kassim said, saying whatever would probably sound good at that moment. The crowd got to muttering. Even the trio looked amazed.

 

“Is that really her?”

 

“Her hair is red. The Ren family is made of redheads, right?”

 

“The Kou ones, yeah, and she is  _ Kou _ gyoku, right?” Kassim smiled and mimed pulling a hairpin out of his hair where she could see it. She pulled the pin from her robe and presented it.

 

“ Spirit of Sorrow and Isolation, in the name of my Magoi, and my will to grant me a greater power, I order you and your members. Come forth, Vinea!” Water spread from the pin as it transformed into a sword and traveled up her arms, giving her scales and little fins. Kassim chuckled.

 

“Tell me, the Eighth Princess and wielder of the Water Djinn, Vinea, what are you planning to do with these citizens of the Empire? Answer, or be cut to ribbons!”

 

“I-I-I-I-I was going to bring them to the holding cells for questioning. I wasn’t going to do anything bad, I promise!”

 

“Is that so?” Kougyoku asked. She didn’t sound like she believed him, but Kassim could see she was wavering.

 

“Last time I saw someone come back from those cells, he couldn’t walk for a week from his injuries. It would probably be the end of the dancer’s career,” he said. That kept her going.

 

“Name and rank, soldier,” she said.

 

“Lieutenant Bubiyao Tsanku, Princess,” the guard said. Kassim smiled. A single hour in the streets and she was starting to do his job. Maybe he could foist it on her and go back to his cloth stall.

 

“Lieutenant Tsan Ku. It is our mission, as rulers and enforcers of the law, to make sure that the citizens are happy above all else. If the law impedes that happiness, it must be ignored and the issue brought to attention so it may be changed. These performers are making the citizens happier and making them able to work harder than before for our great Empire. Not only are you causing them undue pain by stripping away a moment’s entertainment, you are also demoralizing them. A report will be submitted. You are hereby commanded to report to the castle at sundown for your punishment. For now, you are relieved of duty. Inform your replacement of what’s transpired and have him go on duty now. Am I understood?”

 

“Perfectly, Princess Kougyoku.”

  
Kassim watched him leave, impressed that she had managed all that. She put her sword away and tucked the pin back in her robe, then turned and bowed to the dancer.

‘

“Please, continue. Your dancing is quite beautiful. If I may, I’d like you to come dance at the castle sometime. I’d like to know where you’re staying so we can contact you later.” The two exchanged information quickly, Ka Koubun taking the notes down. Then Kougyoku made her way back to Kassim.

 

“That was more exciting than I thought it would be,” she said, practically glowing.

 

“You’re quick to act. It was cool,” Kassim said.

 

“You think so?”

 

“Totally.” That really made her glow. The people around them looked at her in awe, and then she turned to the dancer, who nodded and got the instrumentalists to start again. Once she was dancing, the group took their leave from the crowd.   
  
“Princess, you’re amazing,” and other iterations followed them out, and word started spreading. Soon enough, they had to group closely together so they didn’t get separated by people.

 

“I don’t think this is what Big brother Koumei had in mind when he said to go outside,” Kougyoku said, waving to people and saying hello.

 

“Yeah, but it’s great for my job. People are gonna be way more responsive if they think you guys are actually okay,” Kassim replied, keeping people from touching her. If he had a good blade, or something else to give her some breathing room, he would be happy.

  
  
  


Somehow, they made it to the castle without broken feet or noses. Kassim breathed a sigh of relief that they had gotten there before sundown, and ended up watching out as Kougyoku changed back into her robes. Xiren bolted off to file the report on Tsanku. The two of them headed off to her room, and she sighed.

 

“Guess it’s time to head back home. Just when I was really getting used to this place,” Kougyoku said.

 

“Aw, c’mon. It’s not like it’s forever, right?”

 

“Probably not… I could travel here sometimes.”

 

“When do you leave?” Kassim asked.

 

“Tomorrow,” Kougyoku replied, drooping.

 

“Then why don’t we do something crazy tonight? Like… dinner?” This was ridiculous. He sounded like he was asking her out on a date or something.

 

“Dinner? Just the two of us?”

 

“Unless you want Koubun around, yeah.”

 

“As friends?” Kougyoku asked, eyes glittering. Kassim blinked, because what the fuck?

 

“Yeah. As friends.” It saved him the trouble of this not being a date. 


	6. Household Vessel! Vainal Dire!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kassim figures himself out! Finally!

Kassim went down to the kitchens and grabbed a random basket on the way through, taking some food from different dishes that had been prepared and wrapping them up before stuffing them in without a care, making sure to add a few fruits of various kinds. No doubt Kougyoku had already had all of them, but he grabbed Balbadd ones all the same. Familiarity for him, and something new and exciting for her. Then he grabbed a bottle of wine.

 

He headed to her room with the basket and knocked on her door. She opened it and looked up at him. While she looked no different than before, Kassim felt that there was something there that wasn’t there that morning.

 

“You look…” He paused. She looked what? Beautiful? Stunning? Like she had been put through the ringer and come out on top? Kougyoku tilted her head.

 

“Do I look like a mess?”

 

“No, not at all. You look more confident. Um. I brought some food from downstairs. I wasn’t sure where you would want to eat, so I figured staying mobile would be a good idea for now.”

 

“We can eat in my rooms! The parlor is empty right now, and perfect for receiving guests,” Kougyoku said, stepping aside to let Kassim in.

 

“Uh, thank you, I guess. Do you drink wine at all?”

 

“Only for special occasions.”

 

“Well, you going home is a special occasion, right? Good thing I brought this, then,” Kassim said, pulling out the bottle. He set it on a table, then looked at Kougyoku, who sat down near it.

 

“Yes, it is a good thing,” Kougyoku said, suddenly stiff.

 

“Uh, Princess? Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine. I just… uhm…” She looked around the room, then at Kassim, and then down at her lap as a noticeable blush came over her face.

 

“We can eat somewhere else if it would make you more comfortable.”

 

“Good idea. Any idea where, though?”

 

“Hmm… Somewhere where we can be ourselves, but not in an awkward place. I know exactly where we can go,” Kassim said, putting the bottle back.

 

“Really? Where?”

 

“My friends. I hate eating without them, anyway. Doesn’t feel right, you know? We should borrow a carriage or something, since they’re in the city.”

 

“We could take a carpet! It’s faster and easier to travel on. You just have to unroll it and climb aboard. Carriages have to be prepared,” Kougyoku said, getting excited. She went off into the castle halls, moving with purpose toward a room that was close to the front courtyard. Kassim followed her quickly, then waited outside the room as she searched for a carpet for them. Once she had it, they were off.

 

The trip to Zaynab’s was short, and they landed outside without a sound. At least this time, they hadn’t left a massive rent in the road like Kouha had. Kassim could see, even in the dark of the night, that there was fresh dirt where the sword had landed. No doubt a matching scar would be outside his house.

 

He knocked on the door, and Zaynab answered, Hassan right behind her.

 

“Kassim! How did you get out of eating at the castle this time?” she asked.

 

“Ended up being invited to dinner, but she got nervous eating alone with a man, so I brought her here. I brought some food.”

 

“Perfect! Hassan brought a chicken again tonight. I made some noodles to go with it,” Zaynab said, smiling. Kassim went inside and turned to Kougyoku, offering his hand for her.

 

“Come on in,” he said, smiling. Zaynab offered her hand, as well.

 

“You’re with friends, here,” she added.

 

“Really?” Kougyoku asked. They nodded.

 

“Really. Any friend of Kassim is a friend of mine. Besides, you saved those performers earlier, right? That means you’re always welcome here.”

 

“Thank you so much! You’re really kind,” Kougyoku said, finally coming inside. Hassan scoffed.

 

“Don’t let her fool ya! She can be a real harpy,” he said, chuckling.

 

“Who are you calling a harpy!?” Zaynab asked, whirling on him.

 

“You! You’re always screeching about one thing or another!”

 

“I haven’t screeched in three days!” The two of them went off on a predictable argument. Kassim sat down, leading Kougyoku to the table to sit next to him as he waited for them to stop for a moment.

 

“These two argue all the time. They’ve been on and off for years,” he said.

 

“Oh, really?” She looked concerned.

 

“Yeah. They haven’t even said anything really bad, yet.”

 

“You know you’d miss me if I left! You’re better with me!” Zaynab shouted.

 

“Damn right! And you’re better with me! So stop harping on me!”

 

“I’ll harp on you if I want to harp on you! Better you than someone else!”

 

“Well,” Kassim muttered. “This took an unexpected turn. Those two hardly ever agree when they’re fighting.”

 

“Maybe I  _ should _ leave you, so you’ll miss me and welcome me home with open arms!” Hassan shouted.

 

“Yeah, right! You wouldn’t last one day without me!”

 

“If you know that, then why do you keep telling me to get out of the house!?”

 

“I don’t know, maybe because I want to live with a husband instead of my best friend!” Zaynab yelled, crossing her arms and turning on her heel, nose in the air.

 

“Then live with a husband and marry me!” Hassan shouted. He stopped as soon as he realized what he said.

 

_ Everyone  _ stopped when they realized what he said.

 

Kassim looked at them, then at Kougyoku, who stared in shock, eyes wide and unblinking. Zaynab turned around slowly, jaw dropped as she stared in shock at Hassan, who mirrored her expression.

 

“That’s… not how I wanted to propose,” he said, taking a ring from his sleeve. “Zaynab, even when we fight, I can see how great you are, and how much I love you. I want us to be together forever. Will you marry me?”

 

Zaynab stared for a moment longer, hands slowly coming up to her face. They covered her mouth as tears sprang to her eyes, and she nodded vigorously. “Yes. Yes!” She launched herself at Hassan, who caught her easily and spun her around with a laugh.

 

“We’re getting married! WE’RE GETTING MARRIED~!”

 

“Great, now shut up!” shouted someone from outside. Kassim laughed loudly, and soon, they all were. He could feel how happy these two were around each other, and when he looked at Kougyoku, he could see how happy she was, too.

 

She really did care about her people, right? It wasn’t just a hoax that sourced from her knowing some of them personally? Kassim shook his head. He could tell. Her feelings toward her people were genuine. He smiled.

 

“We should eat and celebrate. I brought wine!”

 

Thank whatever gods were out there that he had.   
  
  
  
Kassim escorted Kougyoku back to her room a couple hours later, after they had decided to leave the two alone when it was clear they were getting a little  _ too _ cozy with one another. When they arrived at the armory, they found all three brothers standing by it.

 

“Oops,” Kassim said, stopping a short distance from them. Kougyoku went up to them excitedly.

 

“Big brother Kouen, brother Koumei, and brother Kouha, you’re all here! I just met Kassim’s friends–”

 

“Without telling anyone you were leaving. Ka Koubun was worried for you,” Kouen said.

 

“Oh. I’m sorry to all of you. I should have told you I was going out,” Kougyoku said.

 

“Hey, come on!” Kassim said, coming up and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Can’t you give her a break? She can defend herself just fine against trouble.”

 

“And who will defend her from you?” Kouen asked, raising an eyebrow. Kassim gritted his teeth.

 

“You guys trusted her with me earlier. Why should now be any different!?”

 

“You had both Xi Xiren and Ka Koubun with you earlier today. This time, you kidnapped our sister alone,” Koumei said, glaring at him. Kassim glared back.

 

“Kassim, it’s okay, really. I messed up,” Kougyoku said, putting her hand on his shoulder.

 

“They shouldn’t gang up on you like this, though!”

 

“It’s fine!” Kassim looked at her, then at them, and wrested himself free of her grip before stalking off. Those guys really pissed him off. They seriously pissed him off like no one else! Even Alibaba couldn’t compare! 

 

He went off to his home, and somehow found himself at the canal. Amon burned at his side briefly, and he looked into the water. There was the knife, glinting in the moonlight. Figures. Something told him it was important to grab it, a little voice saying  _ “there, get that one.” _ Kassim pulled it out. In an instant, a strange light enveloped it, and he heard the voice properly in his head.

 

“What the—”

 

“Hello, I am a household piece of Vinea! I came to you when you decided to follow my master’s master, Kougyoku~!”

 

“What?”

 

“And now that you have a proper metal vessel, we can join together to serve and protect her. You’re going to be a great household vessel!”

 

“What?” Just like that, the voice disappeared. Kassim blinked and stared at the water, thinking maybe he had way too much wine earlier. He shook his head and tucked the knife into his belt, then wandered back home and decided to just go to sleep.

 

His dreams were plagued with a number of disturbing images. He saw Alibaba’s blackened corpse, saw his friends dead on the ground, saw the Ren brothers bruised and broken, and then... 

 

Unexpectedly, the image that shook him to his core was that of Kougyoku. She was dead on the ground. Kassim knew from seeing her there that he had messed up somehow. He was supposed to protect her, but he could do nothing. He had caused her end.

 

He awoke in a cold sweat, eyes blown wide. In an instant, Kassim knew where he needed to be.

 

Rushing through getting dressed, Kassim stuffed his dagger into his robe, feeling the old memories haunt him. He had… he had protected Mariam with it. He would protect Kougyoku, now. His path out the door led him directly to his beloved sister’s grave.

 

“I’m going to protect Kougyoku. I know what I can do for her. Don’t worry, Mariam. I’ll do my best for her,” he said. Then he ran to the castle as fast as he could.

 

“Mr. Kassim! Why are you here so early?” Xiren asked, already in his armor and suiting up the carriage as Kassim barrelled past him.

 

“No time!” He bolted through the castle, knowing exactly where he needed to go. He could… he could sense her presence, somewhere. Up a set of stairs, the ones he had ascended the night before, then down the hall to her room. He could barely feel his feet anymore.

 

“Princess Kougyoku? I… I have something to tell you!”

 

“What is it?” she called from inside. Someone else came to the door. It was Kouha.

 

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

 

“I’m here to talk to your sister,” Kassim said. Kouha shook his head.

 

“You’ve done enough damage already. I suggest getting out of here before En-nii-san finds you. He still wants you dead for potentially harming his sister.”

 

“Can you answer a question, then? Before I go,” Kassim asked. Kouha narrowed his eyes.   
  


“What’s the question?”

 

“What is a household vessel?”

 

“Where the hell did that come from?” Kouha asked incredulously. He sighed and shook his head. “A household vessel is someone who’s pledged their life to a metal vessel user. Many of my men are householded to me. En-nii-san’s retinue of ‘monsters’ are his. Koumei has one, and that’s Chuu’un. Kougyoku has Ka Koubun. They all serve their masters to the best of their abilities, following orders and using their powers. Why?”

 

“Because… because…” Kassim wasn’t really sure how to word it. He finally just took out the knife and showed it.

 

“The knife?” Kouha asked. Understanding lit up in his eyes as he looked at Kassim and breathed a quiet, “No.”

 

“I protected Mariam with this knife. I guess I’m going to protect her, too. My outburst last night. That was…”

 

“Instinct? You chose her. Oh my god, you chose her!” Kouha whipped around and ran into the apartments, throwing a door open and screeching.

 

“Kougyoku-nee-chan~! You’ll never believe!” The door closed, and Kassim was left on the far side of a muffled conversation. He looked back and forth, hoping that that would somehow let him hear what was going on. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long, as Kougyoku came flying out to see him.

 

“You really…?”

 

“Yeah. Vainel something, I guess. I didn’t really hear what exactly it was that I’m supposed to use.”

 

“‘Vainel’ is how the spells of my household begin,” Kougyoku said, smiling widely.

 

“Really? How does it work?”

 

“As long as I have magoi, you can use your ability. I guess you don’t know what it is yet?”

 

“Not yet, no, but I’ll figure it out soon,” Kassim said nonchalantly. It couldn’t be that hard, right?

 

Boy was he wrong. He found himself standing in one of the castle’s training yards, surrounded by soldiers. Kougyoku stood across from him, her sword out.

 

“Don’t hold back!” she shouted, coming right for him. Kassim ducked to the side and made a slash at her side as he passed, cutting her robes and ribs open. She grunted from the pain and turned, narrowing her eyes as she considered him a second time. Kassim prepared for another attack, getting into a low stance. It wasn’t any sort of fancy training, but it worked well enough to keep him alive in a cutthroat environment, and that was more than good enough.

 

Kougyoku came at him again, keeping a better eye on the knife and parrying it as Kassim kicked up and landed a hit on her crotch, sending her to the ground.

 

“Works on everyone,” he said, pleased at the effect.

 

“That was dirty!” Kougyoku said.

 

“You said not to hold back, right?”

 

“Right…”

 

“Can’t learn if I don’t give everything I’ve got, right?”

 

“Right!” Kougyoku nodded and stood again, grinning now. “Let’s go!”

 

“Stop,” someone said. Kouen entered the battlefield. “My turn. Kougyoku, stay where you are.”

 

“Uh, okay.” Kougyoku stayed put as Kassim turned to face his new opponent.

  
“What are you planning, old man?” Kassim asked.

 

“To fight you. Come at me.” Kouen drew his sword and got into his fighting stance. It was, in every way, perfect. Kassim could understand that it was technically flawless, but he also saw a readiness in Kouen’s form that meant he was truly ready to throw down.

 

This guy was dangerous.

 

Kassim ran forward, preparing to fight him with everything he had — Kouen briefly parried and shot right past him, moving swiftly toward Kougyoku and putting his sword to her throat.

 

“Fail,” he said.

 

“Guess you heard the news,” Kassim said. He understood the exercise now. The two men switched positions, and Kassim got ready to properly defend Kougyoku. He feinted forward, and Kouen came at him, jarring his wrist and sending his knife to the floor before once again “killing” Kougyoku.

 

“Dammit! How the hell am I supposed to beat you?” Kassim demanded.

 

“Use your vessel.”

 

“I don’t know how!”

 

“Figure it out!” Kouen backed up and attacked immediately after. Kassim clenched his teeth. He needed a way to keep Kouen from getting past him, a way to protect Kougyoku, to keep her covered!

 

“ _ Kassim, this is Vinea! You want to shield my King’s Candidate. Use Vainel Dire!” _

 

Kouen attacked again, and for just a moment, time slowed for Kassim. He brought his knife forward and pointed it to the ground.

 

“Vainel Dire!” he shouted. The blade was swept up with water that quickly bloomed in front of him, creating a bubble of water around both him and Kougyoku. Kouen’s blade hit it and bounced off, sending him off-balance. Kassim quickly took advantage of it and burst through the bubble, stabbing Kouen right in the leg.

  
  


“Well done. Heal me, Phenex,” Kouen said, purple light surrounding the wound. It disappeared a moment later. “I’ll forgive your kidnapping last night, on one condition: You must swear to protect Kougyoku with your life. Should something happen to her, you will wish I had dealt with you here.”

 

Kassim nodded. “Understood.”

 

“Let’s get something to eat,” Kouen said. He walked off, motioning for the others to follow. Kassim went after Kougyoku, Kouha also filing into place.

 

“Wait. Does this mean that I’m going to Rakushou?”

 

"Yes, it does," Koumei said, coming over. He looked a little miffed. Kassim made a face, then pretended to vomit.

 

"Ugh, having to go to the capitol? That's the worst news of my life."

 

"It's not so bad, Kassim," Kougyoku said. She clasped his hands in hers. "Besides, we'll be able to get to know each other better as friends!"

 

"Yeah, guess you're right. Long as we come back for the wedding," Kassim said. Kouen and Koumei looked at the two warily.

 

"Wedding? Oh, right! We have to return for that!" Kougyoku replied. At that, Kouen butted in.

 

"What wedding is this?"

 

"It's for my friends, Zaynab and Hassan. They just got engaged last night," Kassim explained, as Kougyoku let his hands go.

 

"I see. Inform me of the date when they decide on it," said Kouen. "I have a campaign to plan for now. Kouha! War room."

 

"Right!" The two of them disappeared, Koumei following along, leaving Kassim and Kougyoku alone in the yard.

 

"Your djinn is Vinea, right? Can you tell me about her?" Kassim asked.

 

"Of course! Vinea is the Djinn of Sorrow and Isolation. She gives me the power to control water, which is why your vessel made that shield of water. Proximity to the ocean is why I love Balbadd," Kougyoku said, smiling. Kassim smiled back and offered his arm. She took it, and off they went.

 

"The ocean, huh? You know, when I talked to your brothers before I started working, I wanted to do anything else. The ocean helped me out. She's always been here, even when things change for us," Kassim said, turning to her. "Princess Kougyoku, I'll protect you, no matter where we go or how things change. You fight for us, and with us. I respect you for it."

 

"Thank you, Kassim," Kougyoku said, smiling brightly. Kassim smiled back. It was probably his first genuine smile since the Empire moved in.

 

Far off, in his home, Alibaba's dagger glowed faintly. Amon smiled at the change, giving a small nod to Vinea before departing. He returned to his dungeon to await a new King.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now he will never be free of those three. i may make a sequel to this at some point. thanks to dragonofeternal and setsuntamew for making this possible ^-^


End file.
